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JACK  DOWNING  S 
[      SEP  35 


BOOK. 


j 


CONTAIKING  A  SELECTION  OF  UPWARDS 

OF    TWO    HUNDRED    "feONGS,    MANY 

OF    WHICH    ARE     NEW. 

BY  JACK  DOWNING,  M.  D.  M. 


Second  Edition. 


PROVIDENCE: 

WEEDEN    AND    CORY. 

1836. 


Entered  according  to  Act  of  Congress,  in  the  year  One  Thous- 
and Eight  Hundred  and  Thirty-Five,  by  "Weeden  &  Cory,  in  the 
Clerk's  Office  of  the  District  Court,  of  the  District  of  Rhode-Island. 


To  ANDRFAV  JACKSON, 

President  of  the  United  States. 

Dear  General — I  suppose  you  will 
think  this  is  rather  a  queer  piece  of  business, 
^^r  me  to  go  to  work  to  put  out  a  Song  Book: 
Jut  the  truth  of  the  matter  is,  that  I  have  got 
(pretty  near  tired  out  with  all  the  nonsense  that 
the  whole  heap  of  newspaper  folks  have  kept 
printing  about  me,  and  making  up  all  sorts  of 
stuff,  and  calling  it  mine: — and  so,  while  I 
was  down  East,  last  winter,  I  took  it  into  my 
head,  that  I  would  do  something  or  other,  so 
that  people  might  find  out  that  I  wasn't,  after 
all,  just  exactly  the  kind  of  creature  they  took 
me  for:  and  I  pretty  soon  concluded  that  the 
best  way  was  to  contrive  some  book  that  every 
body  would  want  to  read,  and  here  it  is. 

Now,  if  so  be  that  people  generally  may 
suppose  that  there  must  be  different  particular 
kinds  of  Song  Books  enough  already,  for  every 
body  that  wants  one;  all  I  can  say,  is,  that 
there  is  plenty  of  them,  to  be  sure;  but  I 
havn't  seen  any  that  is  exactly  the  thing  yet, 
before  mine;  and  I  shall  be  a  good  deal  mis- 
taken, if  this  dont  take  the  lead  of  them  all,  by 
considerable.  Almost  all  of  them  have  been 
made  somewhat  in  this  fashion: — somebody 
who  did  n't  know  how  to  do  anything,  would 


VI 

go  to  work,  and  get  a  parcel  of  old  ones,  and 
take  Songs  out  of  one  and  another,  and  put 
them  into  his,  with  all  the  bad  English,  and 
bad  spelling,  and  every  thing;  and  be  pretty 
sure  to  make  it  all  a  good  deal  worse  than  it 
was  before ;  and,  in  that  way,  most  of  the  good 
Songs  got  so  twisted  out  of  all  kinds  of  shape, 
that  they  were  beyond  any  body's  power  to 
read,  sing,  or  whistle.  And  as  to  the  common 
sense  that  is  left  in  nearly  all  of  them,  there 
is  no  more  of  it  than  there  is  in  three  quarters 
of  the  letters,  and  such  things,  that  they  have 
fixed  out  with  my  name  put  to  them;  and  that 
is  saying  enough,  I  should  think. 

Now,  in  this  book  ofmme,  the  genuine  good 
*  old  Songs  have  been  all  gone  over  with,  and 
made  to  read  just  as  they  did  in  the  first  place; 
and  the  new  ones  are  put  in  just  exactly  as  the 
men  made  them;  and  none  of  them  have  been 
spoilt  by  mending  them,  to  please  any  body: 
and  on  this  account,  and  some  others  too,  I  do 
think,  that  the  whole  book  is  about  as  great 
a  piece  of  improvement  upon  all  the  Song 
Books  that  you  can  find  to  sell  at  Boston,  or 
New-York,  or  to  the  Westward,  or  any  where 
else,  as  amy  thing  that  has  come  along  for  a 
considerable  time. 

Yours,  always  to  serve, 

J.  DOWNING,  Major, 
and  Editor  of  this  Song  Book. 


JACK  DOWNING'S 

SONG    BOOK. 

— 

'  HAIL  COLUMBIA. 

Hail,  Columbia!  happy  land! 
Hail,  ye  heroes!  heaven-born  band! 

Who  fought  and  bled  in  freedom's  cause, 
Who  fought  and  bled  in  freedom's  cause, 
And  when  the  storm  of  war  was  gone, 
Enjoyed  the  peace  your  valor  won. 
Let  independence  be  our  boast, 
Ever  mindful  what  it  cost; 
Ever  grateful  for  the  prize, 
Let  its  altar  reach  the  skies. 
Firm — united — let  us  be, 
Rallying  round  our  liberty; 
As  a  band  of  brothers  joined, 
Peace  and  safety  we  shall  find. 

Immortal  patriots!  rise  once  more; 

Defend  your  rights,  defend  your  shore; 
Let  no  rude  foe,  with  impious  hand, 
Let  no  rude  foe,  with  impious  hand, 


8  jack  downing's 

Invade  the  shrine  where  sacred  lies, 
Of  toil  and  blood  the  well-earned  prize. 
While  offering  peace  sincere  and  just, 
In  heaven  we  place  a  manly  trust, 
That  truth  and  justice  will  prevail, 
And  every  scheme  of  bondage  fail. 
Firm — united,  &c. 


Sound,  sound,  the  trump  of  fame  ! 

Let  Washington's  great  name, 

Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause, 
Ring  through  the  world  with  loud  applause, 

Let  every  clime  to  freedom  dear, 

Listen  with  a  joyful  ear; 

With  equal  skill  and  god-like  power 
He  governed  in  the  fearful  hour 
Of  horrid  war;  or  guides  with  ease, 
The  happier  times  of  honest  peace. 
Firm — united,  &c. 

Behold  the  chief  who  now  commands, 
Once  more  to  serve  his  country  stands — 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat; 
The  rock  on  which  the  storm  will  beat; 
But  armed  in  virtue,  firm  and  true, 
His  hopes  are  fixed  on  heaven  and  you. 
WThen  hope  was  sinking  in  dismay, 
And  glooms  obscured  Columbia's  day, 
His  steady  mind,  from  changes  free, 
Resolved  on  death  or  liberty. 
Firm — united,  &c. 


I 


k 


SONG  BOOK. 


MERRILY  BOUNDS  THE  BARK. 

Merrily,  merrily,  bounds  the  bark, 

She  bounds  before  the  gale; 
The  mountain  breeze  from  Binnadarch 

Is  joyous  in  her  sail. 

Merrily,  merrily,  bounds  the  bark, 

O'er  the  broad  ocean  driven; 
Her  path  by  Ronin's  mountain  dark, 

The  steersman's  hand  has  given. 

Merrily,  merrily,  goes  the  bark, 

On  a  breeze  from  the  northward  free; 

So  shoots  through  the  morning  sky  the  lark, 
Or  the  swan  through  the  summer  sea. 

Merrily,  merrily,  goes  the  bark, 

Before  the  gale  she  bounds; 
So  flies  the  dolphin  from  the  shark, 

Or  the  deer  before  the  hounds. 


O,  NO!   I'LL  NEVER  MENTION  HER. 

O,  no!  I  '11  never  mention  her. 

Her  name  is  never  heard; 
My  lips  are  now  forbid  to  speak 

That  once  familiar  word. 
From  sport  to  sport  they  hurry  me, 

To  banish  my  regret, 


10  JACK  DOWNING'S 

And  when  they  win  a  smile  from  me, 
They  think  that  I  forget. 

They  bid  me  seek  in  change  of  scene, 

The  charms  that  others  see; 
But  were  I  in  a  foreign  land, 

They  'd  find  mo  change  in  me. 
'T  is  true  that  I  behold  no  more, 

The  valley  where  we  met; 
I  do  not  see  that  hawthorn  tree; 

But  how  can  I  forget? 

They  tell  me  she  is  happy  now, 

The  gayest  of  the  gay; 
They  hint  that  she  forgets  her  vow, 

But  I  heed  not  what  they  say: 
Like  me,  perhaps,  she  struggles 

With  each  feeling  of  regret: 
Bat  if  she  loves  as  I  have  loved, 

She  never  can  forget. 

I  SEE  THEM  ON  THEIR  WINDING 

WAYS 

I  see  them  on  their  winding  way, 

About  their  ranks  the  moonbeams  play ; 

Their  lofty  deeds,  and  daring  high, 

Blend  with  the  notes  of  victory ; 

And  waving  arms,  and  banners  bright, 

Are  glancing  in  the  mellow  light. 

They  're  lost  and  gone — the  moon^     past, 


SONG   BOOK.  11 

The  wood's  dark  shade  is  o'er  them  cast, 
And  fainter,  fainter,  fainter  still, 
The  march  is  rising  o'er  the  hill. 
I  see  them,  &c. 

Again,  again,  the  pealing  drum, 
The  clashing  horn — they  come,  they  come; 
Through  rocky  pass,  o'er  wooded  steep, 
In  long  and  glittering  files  they  sweep; 
And  nearer,  nearer,  yet  more  near, 
Their  softened  chorus  meets  the  ear. 
Forth,  forth,  and  meet  them  on  their  way, 
The  trampling  hoofs  brook  no  delay; 
With  thrilling  fife,  and  pealing  drum, 
And  clashing  horn — they  come,  they  come. 
I  see  them,  &c. 

HIGHLAND  MARY. 

Ye  banks,  and  braes,  and  streams  around 

The  castle  of  Montgomery, 
Green  be  your  woods  and  fair  your  flowers, 

Your  waters  never  drumilie; 
There  simmer  first  unfaulds  her  robes, 

And  there  they  langest  tarry; 
For  there  I  took  the  last  farewell 

Of  my  dear  Highland  Mary. 

How  sweetly  bloomed  the  gay  green  birk, 
How  rich  the  hawthorn's  blossom; 

As  underneath  the  fragrant  shade 
I  clasped  her  to  my  bosom! 


12  jack  downing's 

The  golden  hours  on  angel  wings 

Flew  o'er  me  and  my  dearie; 
For  dear  to  me  as  light  and  life, 

Was  my  sweet  Highland  Mary. 

Wi'  mony  a  vow  and  locked  embrace, 

Our  parting  was  fu'  tender; 
And  pledging  aft  to  meet  again, 

We  tore  ourselves  asunder. 
But,  O!  fell  death's  untimely  frost, 

That  nipt  my  flower  sae  early: 
Now  green  's  the  sod,  and  eauld  *s  the  clay, 

That  wraps  my  Highland  Mary. 

O  pale,  pale  now,  those  rosy  lips, 

I  oft  hae  kissed  sae  fondly; 
And  closed  for  a'  the  sparkling  glance 

That  dwelt  on  me  sae  kindly! 
And  mouldering  now  in  silent  dust. 

D 

That  heart  that  lo'ed  me  dearly; 
But  still  within  my  bosom's  core, 
Shall  live  my  Highland  Mary. 

HEY   THE  BONNIE   BREAST-KNOTS. 

Hey  the  bonnie,  ho  the  bonnie, 

Hey  the  bonnie  breast-knots; 

Blythe  and  merry  were  they  a' 

When  they  put  on  the  breast-knots. 
There  was  a  bridal  in  this  toun, 
And  till'e  the  lasses  a'  were  boun, 


SONG   BOOK.  13 

Wi'  mankie  facings  on  their  gouns, 
And  some  of  them  had  breast-knots. 
Hey  the  bonnie,  &c. 

At  nine  o'clock  the  lads  convene, 
Some  clad  in  blue,  some  clad  in  green, 
Wi*  shennen  buckles  on  their  sheen, 
And  flowers  upon  their  waistcoats; 
Hey  the  bonnie,  &c. 

Out  came  their  wives,  wi*  a'  a  phrase, 
And  wished  the  lassie  happy  days, 
And  muckle  thought  they  o'  her  claes, 
Especially  the  breast-knots; 

Hey  the  bonnie,  &c. 

The  bride  she  was  both  young  and  fair, 
Her  neck  outshone  her  perl  ins  rare, 
A  satin  snood  bound  up  her  hair, 
And  flowers  among  the  breast-knots. 

Hey  the  bonnie,  &c. 

# 

The  bridegroom  gazed,  but  maist  I  ween, 
He  prized  the  glance  o'  love's  blue  een, 
That  made  him  proud  o'  his  sweet  Jean, 
When  she  got  on  her  breast-knots. 
Hey  the  bonnie,  &c. 

NOTHING  TRUE  BUT  HEAVJEN. 

This  world  is  all  a  fleeting  show, 
For  man's  illusion  given; 


14  jack  downing's 

The  smiles  of  joy,  the  tears  of  wo, 
Deceitful  shine,  deceitful  flow — 
There  's  nothing  true  but  heaven! 

And  false  the  light  on  glory's  plume, 

As  fading  hues  of  even; 
And  love,  and  hope,  £nd  beauty's  bloom, 
Are  blossoms  gathered  for  the  tomb — 

There  's  nothing  bright  but  heaven! 

Poor  wanderers  of  a  stormy  day! 

From  wave  to  wave  we're  driven; 
And  fancy's  flash,  and  reason's  ray, 
Serve  but  to  light  the  troubled  way — 

There  's  nothing  calm  but  heaven! 

EVENING  SONG  OF  THE  TYROLESE 

PEASANTS. 

Come  to  the  sun-set  tree! 

The  day  is  past  and  gone; 
The  woodman's  axe  lies  free, 

The  reaper's  work  is  done. 
The  twilight  star  to  heaven, 

And  the  summer  dew  to  flowers, 
And  rest  to  us  is  given 

In  the  cool  refreshing  bowers. 
Come  to  the  sunset  tree,  &c. 

Sweet  is  the  hour  of  rest, 
Pleasant  the  wind's  low  sigh; 


SONG   BOOK.  15 

The  gleaming  of  the  West, 

And  the  turf  whereon  we  lie. 
When  the  burden  of  the  heat 

Of  labor's  task  is  o'er, 
And  kindly  voices  greet, 

The  tired  one  at  his  door, 
Come  to  the  sun-set  tree,  &c. 

Yes,  tuneful  is  the  sound 

That  dwells  in  whispering  boughs; 
Welcome  the  freshness  round, 

And  the  gale  that  fans  our  brows. 
Then,  though  the  wind  an  altered  tone 

Through  the  young  foliage  bear, 
Though  every  flower  of  something  gone 

A  tinge  may  wear; 

Come  to  the  sun-set  tree,  &c. 

THE  VESPER  HYMN. 

Hark,  the  vesper  hymn  is  stealing 

O'er  the  waters,  soft  and  clear — 
Nearer  yet,  and  nearer  pealing, 
Now  it  bursts  upon  the  ear: 

Jubilate, Amen. 

Farther  now,  now  farther  stealing, 
Soft  it  fades  upon  the  ear. 

Now,  like  moonlight  waves  retreating 

To  the  shore,  it  dies  along; 
Now  like  angry  surges  meeting, 

Breaks  the  mingled  tide  of  song. 


16  jack  downing' s 

Hark!  again  like  waves  retreating 
To  the  shore,  it  dies  along. 

MERRILY  DANCE  ROUND  THE  MIS- 
TLETOE TREE. 

Come  hither!  come  hither!  the  silver  light 
Of  the  moon  shines  cheerfully  down  to-night. 
Come  hither!  for  this  is  the  season  of  glee; 
Let  us  merrily  dance  round  the  mistletoe  tree. 

Oh!  welcome,  thou  plant  of  the  sacred  grove; 
Thou  innocent  pledge  of  Druidical  love! 
I  care  not  how  distant  the  nymph  may  be, 
So  I  have  but  a  branch  of  the  mistletoe  tree. 

The  mistletoe  tree  has  been  hallowed  before; 
Be  it  thrice  sacred  now  for  the  girl  we  adore; 
When  sanctioned  this  pearl-berried  plant  of 

the  grove, 
Will  yield  us  the  first  virgin  kiss  of  her  love. 

Come  hither!  then,  come!  while  the  moon 

■  shines  bright; 
The  heavens  themselves  beam  out  joy  to-night. 
Come  hither!  for  this  is  the  season  of  glee; 
Let  us  merrily  dance  round  the  mistletoe  tree. 

AS  SUNLIGHT  FALLS. 

As  sunlight  falls  on  crystal  streams 
That  first  reflect  the  day, 


SONG    BOOK.  17 

On  youthful  hearts  so  kindly  gleams 
Love's  fresh  inspiring  ray. 

An  envious  cloud  the  sky  deforms, 
And  crystal  streams  flow  dark; 

So  fares  the  heart  when  wayward  storms 
Extinguish  love's  pure  spark. 

Yet  oh!  relent,  ye  adverse  powers, 

Life's  vanished  joys  restore, 
Those  rosy-colored,  laughing  hours, 

That  bloom  to  fade  no  more. 

HARK!  HARK!  THROUGH  THE  WILD 

WOOD. 

They  come  through  the  wild  wood, 

I  hear  their  warrior  strain; 
The  haunts  of  their  childhood 

Allure  their  steps  again. 
I  see  their  glittering  spears  afar; 
1  hail  the  glorious  voice  of  war; 
The  sunbeams  on  their  morions  glance, 
And  quiver  o'er  each  sparkling  lance. 

1  see  their  glittering  spears  afar; 

I  hear  the  glorious  voice  of  war; 

Hark!  hark!  through  the  wild  wood, 

I  hear  the  martial  strain. 

Oh!  let  not  tears  our  welcome  speak, 

Or  cloud  affection's  brow;  M 

( 


18  jack  downing's 

Tears  gemmed  at  parting  every  cheek, 
But  smiles  should  greet  them  now. 

Twine  round  their  heart  your  spells  of  power, 
Home,  peace,  and  love! 

Through  weary  life's  long,  future  hour, 
No  more,  no  more  to  rove. 
I  see  their,  &c. 

WHERE  SHALL  THE  LOVER  REST  ? 

Where  shall  the  lover  rest, 

Whom  the  fates  sever, 
From  his  true  maiden's  breast, 

Parted  for  ever  ? 
Where,  through  groves  deep  and  high, 

Sounds  the  far  billow; 
Where  early  violets  die, 

Under  the  willow  : 
Eleuloro,  &c.  there  shall  be  his  pillow. 

There  through  the  summer  day, 

Cool  streams  are  laving, 
There  while  the  tempests  sway, 

Scarce  are  boughs  waving; 
There  thy  rest  shalt  thou  take, 

Parted  for  ever, 
Never  again  to  wake, 

Never,  O  never. 
Eleuloro,  &c.  Never,  O  never. 

Where  shall  the  traitor  rest, 
He  the  deceiver, 


SONG    BOOK.  19 

Who  could  win  maiden's  breast, 

Ruin  and  leave  her? 
In  the  lost  battle, 

Borne  down  by  the  flying, 
Where  mingles  war's  rattle 

With  groans  of  the  dying, 
Eleuloro,  &c.  there  shall  he  be  lying. 

Her  wing  shall  the  eagle  flap 

O'er  the  false-hearted, 
His  warm  blood  the  wolf  shall  lap 

Ere  life  be  parted, 
Shame  and  dishonor  sit 

By  his  grave  ever; 
Blessings  shall  hallow  it, 

Never,  O  never: 
Eleuloro,  &c.  Never,  O  never. 

THE  LAY  OF  THE  WANDERING  ARAB. 

Away,  away,  my  Barb  and  I, 

As  free  as  wave,  as  fleet  as  wind, 
We  sweep  the  sands  of  Araby, 

And  leave  a  world  of  slaves  behind. 
'T  is  mine  to  range  in  this  wild  garb, 

Nor  e'er  feel  lonely,  though  alone; 
I  would  not  change  my  Arab  Barb, 

To  mount  a  drowsy  Sultan's  throne. 
Away,  away,  &c. 

Where  the  p<le  stranger  dares  nor  come,  ^si 

oud  oV  my  w.  s  I  rove,      ( 


20  jack  downing's 

An  Arab  tent,  my  only  home, 
An  Arab  maid,  my  only  love. 

Here  freedom  dwells  without  a  fear; 
Coy  to  the  world,  she  loves  the  wild; 

Whoever  brings  a  fetter  here, 
To  chain  the  desert's  fiery  child? 
Away,  away,  &c. 

REST,  WARRIOR,  REST. 

He  comes  from  the  wars,  from  the  red  field 
of  fight! 

He  comes  through  the  storm,  and  the  dark- 
ness of  night! 

For  rest  and  for  refuge  now  fain  to   implore, 

The  warrior  bends  low  at  the  cottager'*  door; 

Pale,  pale  is  his  cheek,  there  's  a  gash  on  his 
brow, 

His  locks  o'er  his  shoulders  distractedly  flow; 

And  the  hre  of  his  heart  shoots  by  fits  from 
his  eye, 

Like  a  languishing  lamp,  that  just  flashes  to  die. 
Rest,  warrior,  rest. 

Sunk  in  silence  and  sleep  in  the  cottager's  bed, 

Oblivion  shall  visit  the  war-weary  head; 

Perchance  he  may  dream,  but  the  vison  shall 
tell, 

Of  his  lady-love's  bower  and  her  latest  fare- 
well ; 

Love's  illusion  shall  banish  the  battle's 
alarms, 


SONG   BOOK.  21 

He  shall  dream  that  his  mistress  lies  locked 

in  his  arms; 
He  shall  feel  on  his  lips  the  sweet  warmth  of 

her  kiss — 
Ah!  warrior,   awake   not!   such   slumber  is 

bliss! 

Rest,  warrior,  rest. 

TO  THE  MOUNTAIN  AWAY. 

The  warrior  came  down  from  his  tent  on  the 
hill, 
To  woo  in  the  vale  of  Cashmere  : 
1  Ah  !  nay,'  cried  the  maid,  with  forebodings 
of  ill, 
And  she  shrank  from  love's  proffer  in  fear. 
But  the  young  mountaineer  would  not  so  be 
denied; 
He  scoffed  at  her  tremulous  ■  nay,' 
And  clasping  the  maid  spurred  his  courser 
and  cried, 
*  Away  to  the  mountain,  away  !' 

Her  home  on  the  mountain  was  stormy  and 
wild, 
Unlike  the  hushed  bowers  of  Cashmere, 
Yet  the  fair,  when  she  gazed  on  her  wedded 
one,  smiled, 
And  love  planted  paradise  there. 
Past  wrongs,  if  recalled,  were  but  named  as 
a  jest, 
From  a  cloud  e'en  as  dawneth  the  day — 


22  JACK  downing'^ 

And  the  warrior's    wild  word*  by  remem- 
brance were  blest, 
*  Away  to  the  mountain,  away!' 

RISE!  GENTLE  MOON. 

Day   has  gone  down  on  the  Baltic's  broad 
billow; 

Evening  has  sighed  her  last  to  the  lone  wil- 
low: 

The  Baltic's  broad  billow; 

Evening  has  sighed  her  last  to  the  lone  wil- 
low; 

Night  hurries  on,  earth  and  ocean  to  cover, 

Rise!  gentle  moon,  and  light  me  to  my  lover. 

'Twas  by  thy  beam  he  first  stole  forth  to  woo 

me; 
Brighter  since  then,  hast  thou  ever  seemed  to 

me; 

First  stole  forth  to  woo  me; 
Brighter  since  then,  hast  thou,  &c. 
Let  the  wild  waves  still  the  red  sun  roll  over, 
Thine  is  the  light  of  all  lights,  to  a  lover. 

ARABY'S  DAUGHTER. 

Fare  we/,  farewell  to  thee,  Araby's  daughter  I 
(I  hus  warbled  a  Peri  beneath  the  dark  sea:) 

No  pearl  ever  lay  under  '  trman's  g'*een  water,. 
More  pure  in  its  shell  than  thy  spirit  in  thee. 


SONG    BOOK.  23 

Around  thee  shall  glisten  the  loveliest  amber, 
That  ever  the  sorrowing  sea-bird  has  wept; 

With  many  a  shell,  in  whose  hollow  wreathed 
chamber, 
The  Peris  of  ocean  by  moonlight  have  slept. 

Nor  shall  Iran  (beloved  of  her  hero)  forget 
thee, — 
Though  tyrants  watch  over  her  tears  as 
they  start; 
Close,  close,  by  the  side  of  that  hero  she  '11 
set  thee, 
Embalmed  in  the  innermost  shrine  of  her 
heart. 

Around  thee,  &c. 

OH,  COME  WITH  ME. 

Oh,  come  with  me,  I  '11  row  thee  o'er 

Yon  blue  and  peaceful  sea; 
And  while  I  gently  ply  the  oar, 

Renew  my  vows  to  thee: 
I  '11  bid  thee  gaze  beneath  thee, 

On  each  reflected  star; 
Then  think  my  soul  reflects  thee, 

As  true,  but  brighter  far. 

Then  come  with  me,  &c. 

• 

O!  could  I  count  the  stars  above, 
The  wild  waves'  ceaseless  swell, 

My  deep,  my  pure,  my  boundless  love 
To  thee  I  could  not  tell. 


24  jack  downing's 

As  soon  the  stars  may  cease  to  rise, 

The  waves  forget  to  flow, 
Ere  my  fond  heart  forget  its  sighs, 

And  cease  to  love  thee — no! 

Then  come  with  me,  &c. 

THE  EXILE  OF  ERIN. 

There  came  to  the  beach  a  poor  exile  of  Erin; 
The  dew  on  his  thin  robe  hung  heavy  and 
chill; 

For  his  country  he  sighed,  when  at  twilight 
repairing 
To  wander  alone  by  the  wind-beaten  hill: 

But  the  day-star  attracted  his  eye's  sad  devo- 
tion, 

For  it  rose  on  his  own  native  isle  of  the  ocean, 

Where  once  in  the  glow  of  his  youthful  emo- 
tion, 

He  sang  the  bold  anthem  of  Erin  go  Bragh. 

Oh!  sad  is  my  fate,  said  the  heart-broken 
stranger: 

The  wild  deer  and  wolf  to  a  covert  can  flee ; 
But  I  have  no  refuge  from  famine  and  danger; 

A  home  and  a  country  remain  not  for  me: 
Ah !  never  again  in  the  green  shady  bowers 
Where  my  forefathers  lived,  shall  I  spend  the 

sweet  hours, 
Or  cover  my  harp  with  the  wild  woven  flowers, 
And  strike  to  the  numbers  of  Erin  go  Bragh! 


SONG   BOOK.  25 

Oh,  where  is  the  cottage  that  stood  by  the 

wild  wood? 
Sisters  and  sires,  did  ye  weep  for  its  fall? 
Oh,  where  is  ray  mother  that  watched  o'er 

my  childhood, 
And   where  is   the   bosom-friend,   dearer 

than  all? 
Ah!  my  sad  soul  long  abandoned  by  pleasure, 
Oh,  why  did  it  doat  on  a  fast  fading  treasure? 
Tears  like   the  rain-drops  may  fall  without 

measure, 
But  rapture  and  beauty  they  cannot  recall. 

O!  Erin,  my  country,  though  sad  and  forsaken, 

In  dreams  I  revisit  thy  sea-beaten  shore; 
But,  alas!  in  a  far  distant  land  I  awaken, 
And  sigh  for  the  friends  who  can  meet  me 

no  more. 
Oh,  hard,  cruel  fate,  wilt  thou  never  replace 

me 
In  a  mansion  of  peace,  where  no  peril  can 

chase  me? 
Ah!  never  again  shall  my  brothers  embrace 

me — 
They  died  to  defend  me,  or  live  to  deplore. 

But  yet,  all  its  sad  recollections  suppressing, 
One  dying  wish  my  lone  bosom  shall  draw; 

Erin,  an  exile  bequeathes  thee  his  blessing, 
Land  of  my  forefathers,  Erin  go  Braghl 


26  jack  downing's 

Buried  and  cold,  when  mv  heart  stills  its  mo- 

tion, 
Green  be  thy  fields,  sweetest  isle  of  the  ocean, 
And  thy  harp-striking  bards  sing  aloud  w7ith 

devotion, 
Erin  ma  vourneen,  Erin  go  Bragh! 

ERE  AROUND  THE  HUGE  OAK. 

Ere  around  the  huge  oak  that  o'ershadows 
yon  mill, 
The  fond  ivy  had  dared  to  entwine — 
Ere  the  church  was  a  ruin  that  nods  on  the 
hill, 
Or  a  rook  built  its  nest  on  the  pine, 

I  could  trace  back  the  time,  a  far  distant  date, 
Since  my  forefathers  toiled  in  this  field, 

And  the  farm  I  now  hold  on  your  honor's  es- 
tate, 
Is  the  same  which  my  grandfather  tilled. 

He,  dying,  bequeathed  to  his  son  a  good  name, 
Which  unsullied  descended  to  me — 

For  my  child  I  5ve  preserved  it,  unblemished 
by  shame, 
And  it  still  from  a  spot  shall  be  free. 

THE  HARP  THAT  ONCE. 

The  harp  that  once  through  Tara's  halls 
The  soul  of  music  shed, 


SONG    BOOK.  27 

Now  hangs  as  mute  on  Tara's  walls 
As  if  that  soul  were  fled. 

So  sleeps  the  pride  of  former  days, 

So  glory's  thrill  is  o'er, 
And  hearts  that  once  beat  high  for  praise, 

Now  feel  that  pulse  no  more. 


No  more  to  chiefs  and  ladies  bright 

The  harp  of  Tara  swells, 
The  chord,  alone,  that  breaks  at  night, 

Its  tale  of  ruin  tells. 

Thus  Freedom  now  so  seldom  wakes; 

The  only  throb  she  gives, 
Is  when  some  heart  indignant  breaks, 

To  show  that  still  she  lives. 

THE  PARTING. 

Oh  !  is  it  thus  we  part, 

And  thus  we  say  farewell, 
As  if  in  either  heart 

Affection  ne'er  did  dwell  ? 
And  is  it  thus  we  sunder 

Without  a  sigh  or  tear, 
As  if  it  were  a  wonder 

We  e'er  held  other  dear  ? 

We  part  upon  the  spot, 

With  cold  and  clouded  brow, 


28  jack  downing's 

Where  first  it  was  our  lot 

To  breathe  love's  fondest  vow  ! 

The  vow  that  both  did  tender 
Within  this  hallowed  shade — 

That  vow  we  both  surrender, 
Heart-bankrupts  ever  made ! 

Thy  hand  is  cold  as  mine, 

As  lustreless  thine  eye, 
Thy  bosom  gives  no  sign 

That  it  could  ever  sigh  ! 
Well,  well  !  Adieu  Js  soon  spoken; 

'T  is  but  a  parting  phrase; 
Yet,  said,  I  fear,  heart-broken 

W7e  '11  live  our  after  days  ! 

Thine  eye  no  tear  will  shed, 
Mine  is  as  proudly  dry; 

But  many  an  aching  head 
Is  ours  before  we  die! 

From  pride,  we  both  can  borrow- 
To  part  we  both  may  dare — 

But  the  heart-break  of  to-morrow, 
Nor  you  nor  I  can  bear! 

pHOUGH  LOVE  IS  WARM  AWHILE. 

Though  love  is  warm  awhile, 

Soon  it  grows  cold  J  v 
Absence  soon  blights  the^smile, 

When  it  grows  old. 


SONG   BOOK.  29 

Dearest,  thy  love  was  mine, 
My  every  thought  was  thine; 
Thus  did  our  hearts  entwine. 
Ere  love  was  cold. 

But  could  thy  bosom  prove 

Faithful,  my  fair; 
Could'st  thou  still  fondly  love, 

Still  absence  bear? 
Oh,  it  was  sweet  to  be 
Loved  as  I  was  by  thee; 
But  if  thou  5rt  false  to  me, 

Welcome  despair. 

THE  ROSE  OF  AFFECTION. 

Of  all  the  sweet  flowers  that  bloom  in  the 


spring. 


f  all  the  gay  birds  that  float  on  the  wing, 
ive  me  the  blue  violet  and  lily  so  pale, 
The  tKrush  and  the  linnet,  the  pride  of  the 

vale; 
But  the  queen  of  all  flowers,  whose  worth 

I  '11  impart, 
Is  the  rose  of  affection  that  blooms  in  the  heart. 

Then  give  me  a  girl  with  a  heart  that 's  sin- 
cere, 

And  the  eye*that  can  drop  an  affectionate  tear: 

Thus  the  rose  and  the  lily  shall  gracefully 
twine, 

\n  emblem  of  beauty,  where  virtues  combine; 


30  JACK   DOWNING'S  i 

For  the  queen  of  all  flowers,  whose  worth 

I  Ml  impart, 
Is  the  rose  of  affection  that  blooms  in  the  heart. 

THE  LOVER'S  MISTAKE. 

A  fond  youth  serenaded  his  love 

Who  was  sleeping — love  never  should  sleep; 
Her  father  was  peeping  above — 

Oh!  fathers,  you  never  should  peep. 
To  his  daughter's  balcony  he  brought 

Her  monkey,  in  muslins  arrayed; 
The  youth  was  o'erjoyed,  for  he  thought 

'T  was  the  form  of  his  beautiful  maid,  his 
maid, 

'T  was  the  form  of  his  beautiful  maid. 

He  gazed  on  the  figure  in  white, 

Whose  nods  gave  new  life  to  his  hopes; 
His  heart  throbbed  with  love  and  delight, 

As  he  threw  up  the  ladder  of  ropes; 
His  charmer  hopped  down  it,  and  then 

The  happy  delusion  was  o'er! 
Girls  often  meet  monkey -like  men, 

But    man    ne'er   wooed    monkey   before, 
before, 
But  man  ne'er  wooed  monkey  before. 

From  the  window  enjoying  the  joke, 
Her  father  feared  danger  no  more; 

And  she  bv  the  bustle  awoke, 

Soon  made  her  escape  at  the  door. 


SONG    BOOK.  31 

*  Come,  come  to  your  Rosa,'  she  said, 
*  Unless  you  prefer  my  baboon; 

And  pray  let  your  next  serenade 

Take   place  at  the  full   of  the  moon,   the 

moon, 
Take  place  at  the  full  of  the  moon.' 

OH!  REMEMBER  THE  TIME. 

Oh!  remember  the  time  in  La  Mancha's  shades 

When  our  moments  so  blissfully  flew; 
When  you  called  me  the  flower  of  Castilian 
maids, 
And  I  blushed  to  be  called  so  by  you. 
When  I  taught  you  to  warble  the  gay  Segua- 
dille, 
And  to  dance  to  the  light  Castanet; 
Oh  never,  dear  youth,  let  you  roam  where  you 
will, 
The  delight  of  those  moments  forget. 

They  tell  me  you  lovers  from  Erin's  green  Isle, 

Ev'ry  hour  a  new  passion  can  feel; 
\nd  that  soon  in  the  lkht  of  some  lovelier 
smile, 

You'll  forget  the  poor  maid  of  Castile. 
3ut  they  know  not  how  brave  in  the   battle 
you  are, 

Or  they  never  could  think  you  would  rove; 
ror  'tis  always  the  spirit  most  gallant  in  war, 

That  is  fondest  and  truest  in  love! 


32  jack  dowxing's 


GREEN  GROW  THE  RUSHES,  O! 

There  's  nought  but  care  on  every  han', 

In  every  hour  that  passes,  O! 
What  signifies  the  life  o"  man, 
An'  ;t  were  na  for  the  lasses,  0! 
Green  grow  the  rushes,  O! 
Green  grow  the  rushes,  O! 
The  sweetest  hours  that  e'er  I  spend, 
Are  spent  amang  the  lasses,  O! 

The  warly  race  may  riches  chase, 
An*  riches  still  may  fly  them,  O! 

An'  though  at  last  they  catch  them  fast, 
Their  hearts  can  ne'er  enjoy  them,  O! 
Green  £row  the  rushes.  &c. 

Gie  me  a  cannie  hour  at  e'en 
My  arms  about  my  dearie,  O! 

Then  warly  cares  and  warly  men 
May  a?  ^ae  tapsalteerie,  O! 

Green  grow  the  rushes,  &c. 

For  you  sae  douse!  ye  sneer  at  this. 

Ye  "re  nought  but  senseless  asses,  O! 
The  wisest  man  the  warl'  e'er  saw, 

He  dearly  loved  the  lasses,  O! 
Green  grow  the  rushes,  &c. 

Auld  nature  swears,  the  lovely  dears 
Her  noblest  work  she  classes,  O! 


SONG    BOOK.  33 

Her  'prentice  han'  she  tried  on  man, 
An  then  she  made  the  lasses,  O ! 
Green  grow  the  rushes,  &c. 

MARSEILLES  HYMN  OF  LIBERTY. 

Ye  sons  of  Freedom,  wake  to  glory! 

Hark!  hark!  what  myriads  bid  you  rise; 
Your  children,  wives,  and  grandsires  hoary, 

Behold  their  tears,  and  hear  their  cries. 
Shall  hateful  tyrants,  mischiefs  breeding, 

With  hireling  hosts,  a  ruffian  band, 

Affright  and  desolate  the  land, 
While  peace  and  liberty  lie  bleeding? 

To  arms!  to  arms!  ye  brave! 

Th'  avenging  sword  unsheath: 
March  on,  march  on,  all  hearts  resolved, 

On  victory  or  death. 

Now,  now,  the  dangerous  storm  is  rolling, 

WThich  treacherous  kings  confederate  raise; 
I  The  dogs  of  war,  let  loose,  are  howling, 
And  lo!  our  fields  and  cities  blaze. 
\nd  shall  we  basely  view  the  ruin, 
While  lawless  force  with  guilty  stride, 
Spreads  desolation  far  and  wide, 
ith  crimes  and  blood  his  hands  embruing? 
To  arms,  &c. 

[jVith  luxury  and  pride  surrounded, 

The  vile,  insatiate  despots  dare, 
2 


34  JACK   DOWNING^ 

(Their  thirst  of  power  and  gold  unbounded 
To  mete  and  vend  the  light  and  air. 

Like  beasts  of  burden  would  they  load  us, 
Like  gods  would  bid  their  slaves  adore; 
But  man  is  man,  and  who  is  more? 

Then  shall  they  longer  lash  and  goad  us? 
To  arms,  &c. 

Oh,  Liberty !  can  man  resign  thee, 

Once  having  felt  thy  generous  flame? 
Can  dungeons,  bolts,  and  bars  confine  thee? 

Or  whips  thy  noble  spirit  tame? 
Too  long  the  world  has  wept,  bewailing 

That  falsehood's  dagger  tyrants  wield; 

But  freedom  is  our  sword  and  shield, 
And  all  their  arts  are  unavailing. 
To  arms,  &c. 

THE  SPRING  TIME  OF  YEAR  IS 
COMING. 

The  spring  time  of  year  is  coming,  coming, 
Birds  are  blithe,  are  blithe  and  gay, 
Insects  bright  are  humming,  humming, 
And  all  the  world  is  May,  love, 
And  all  the  world  is  May. 
The  glorious  sun  is  brighter, 
The  balmy  air  is  lighter; 
E'en  woman  when  we  meet  her 
In  this  sweet  time,  is  sweeter. 
The  spring  time,  &c. 


SONG    BOOK.  35 

The  gale  is  gently  swelling,  swelling, 

With  fragrance  from  the  balmy  grove; 
\nd  youthful  swains  are  telling,  telling, 

Their  happy  tales  of  love,  love, 

Their  happy  tales  of  love, 
spring  makes  the  pulse  with  pleasure  beat, 

Spring  makes  the  heart  with  rapture  thrill, 
Each  maiden  hastes  her  love  to  meet, 

With  hope  and  joy  his  heart  to  fill. 
The  spring  time,  &c. 

JPROUSE  YE,  THEN,  MY  MERRY  MEN. 

The  chough  and  crow  to  roost  are  gone, 

The  owl  sits  on  the  tree, 
The  hushed  wind  wails,  with  feeble  moan, 

Like  infant  charity. 
The  wild  fire  dances  on  the  fen, 

The  red  star  sheds  its  ray, 
Tprouse  ye,  then,  my  merry  men, 

It  is  our  qp'ning  day. 

Uprouse  ye,  then,  kc. 

}oth  child  and  nurse  are  fast  asleep, 

And  closed  is  ev'ry  flower, 
^nd  winking  tapers  faintly  peep 

High  from  my  lady's  bower; 
bewildered  hinds,  with  shortened  ken, 

Shrink  on  their  murky  way; 
Tprouse  ye,  then,  my  merry  men, 

It  is  our  opening  day. 

Uprouse  ye,  then,  &c. 


36  jack  downing's 

Nor  board  nor  garner  own  we  now, 

Nor  roof,  nor  latched  door, 
Nor  kind  mate,  bound  by  holy  vow, 

To  bless  a  good  man's  store; 
Noon  lulls  us  in  a  gloomy  den, 

And  night  is  grown  our  day; 
Uprouse  ye,  then,  my  merry  men, 

And  use  it  as  you  may. 

Uprouse  ye,  then,  &c. 

THE  1NVINCIBLES. 

When  the  merry  fife  and  drum, 

And  the  bugles  loudly  play, 
Then  gaily  march  to  the  martial  sounds, 

The  Invincibles  so  gay. 
Each  lass  upon  parade, 

With  cap  and  smart  cockade, 
To  the  men  will  show,  that  well  she  know 

The  gallant  soldier's  trade. 
Our  corp'ral  leads  us  on, 

And  in  quick  time  wc  move, 
With  arms  in  hand.,  a  valiant  band, 

Our  truth  and  love  to  prove. 
Then  ladies  join  our  ranks, 

Our  banners  proudly  wave; 
Invincibles  in  love  and  war, 

Come  join  the  gay  and  brave. 

Invincibles  are  we, 

With  heart  and  arms  combined; 


SONG    BOOK.  37 

id  no  attention  find  will  he 
Who  is  not  to  our  mind; 
e  never  present  arras 
To  the  purse-proud,  awkward  lout, 
r  soon  is  the  word  from  our  corp'ral  heard* 
To  face  to  the  right  about; 
it  to  the  youths  who  please, 
We  quickly  stand  at  ease, 
'sign  our  arms,  quit  war's  alarms, 
Vo  dwell  in  love  and  peace. 
Then  ladies,  &c. 

MARMION. 

3  war  that  for  a  space  did  fail, 

•v  doubly  thundering,  swelled  the  gale, 

And  *  Stanley!'  was  the  cry: 
ight  on  Marmion's  visage  spread, 

And  fired  his  glazing  eye: 
:h  dying  hand  above  his  head, 
shook  the  fragment  of  his  blade, 

And  shouted  *  Victory! 
rge!  Chester,  charge!  on!  Stanley,  on!* 
re  the  last  words  of  Marmion. 

WELCOME  ME  HOME. 

y  the  Troubadour  touched  his  guitar, 
an  he  was  hastening  home  from  the  war; 
ing,  *  From  Palestine,  hither  I  come; 
y  love,  lady  love,  welcome  me  home.' 


! 


33 


JACK    DOWXINg's 


She  for  the  Troubadour  hopelessly  wept: 
Sadly  she  thought  of  him  when  others  slept; 
Singing,  'In  search  of  thee  would  I  might  roam 

DO7  w 

Troubadour,  Troubadour,  come  to  thy  home. 

Hark!   ?t  was  the  Troubadour  breathing  he 

One; 
Under  the  battlement  softly  he  came: 
Si:  ;  From  Palestine,  hither  I  come, 

Lady  love,  lady  love,  welcome  me  home.' 

NOW  AT  MOONLIGHT'S  FAIR  Y  HOUR 

Now  at  moonlight's  fairy  hour, 

Y\  hen  faintly  gleams  each  dewy  steep, 

And  vale  and  mountain,  lake  and  bower, 
In  solitary  grandeur  sleep; 

W  hen  slowly  sinks  the  evening  breeze, 
That  lulls  the  mind  in  pensive  care, 

And  fancy  loftier  visions  sees, 
Bid  music  wake  the  silent  air. 

Bid  the  merry,  merry,  merry  tabor  sound, 
And  with  the  favs'of  lawn  or  glade, 

In  tripping  circlets  beat  the  ground, 
Under  the  high  tree's  trembling  shade. 

Now  at  moonlight's  fairv  hour, 

Shall  music  breathe  her  dulcet  voice, 

And  o'er  the  waves,  with  magic  power, 
Call  an  echo  to  rejoice. 


SONG   BOOK.  39 

THE  MELLOW  HORN. 

At  dawn  Aurora  gaily  breaks, 

In  all  her  proud  attire, 
Majestic  o'er  the  glassy  lakes 

Reflecting  liquid  fire; 
All  nature  smiles  to  usher  in 

The  blushing  queen  of  morn, 
And  huntsmen  with  the  day  begin 

To  wind  the  mellow  horn. 

At  eve,  when  gloomy  shades  obscure 

The  tranquil  shepherd's  cot; 
When  tinkling  bells  are  heard  no  more, 

And  daily  toil  -a  forgot; 
'T  is  then  the  sweet,  enchanting  note, 

On  zephyrs  gently  borne, 
With  witching  cadence  seems  to  float 

Around  the  mellow  horn. 

AWAY!  AWAY!  TO  THE  MOUNTAIN'S 

BROW. 

Away!  away!  to  the  mountain's  brow, 

Where  the  trees  are  gently  waving; 
Away!  away!  to  the  mountain's  brow, 

Where  the  stream  is  gently  laving; 
And  beauty,  my  love,  on  thy  cheek  shall  dwell, 

Like  the  rose  as  it  opes  to  the  day, 
While  the  zephyr  that  breathes  through  the 
flow'ry  dell, 

Shakes  the  sparkling  dew-drops  away. 


40  jack  downing's 

Away!  away!  to  the  rocky  glen, 
Where  the  deer  are  wildly  bounding, 

And  the  hills  that  echo  in  gladness  again, 
To  the  hunter's  bugle  sounding; 
While  beauty,  my  love,  &c. 

WHAT  FAIRY  LIKE  MUSIC? 

What  fairy  like  music  steals  over  the  sea, 
Entrancing  the  senses  with  charmed  melody? 
'T  is  the  voice  of  the  mermaid,  that  floats 

o'er  the  main, 
As  she  mingles  her  song  with  the  gondolier's 

strain ! 

The  winds  are  all  hushed,  and  the  waters  at 

rest; 
They  sleep   like  the   passions   in   infancy's 

breast! 
Till  storms  shall  unchain  them  from  out  their 

dark  cave, 
And  break  the  repose  of  the  soul  and  the  wave! 

MAID   OF   LLANWELLYN. 

I  've  no  sheep  on  the  mountain,  nor  boat  on 

the  lake; 
Nor  coin  in  my  coffer,  to  keep  me  awake; 
Nor  corn  in  my  garner,  nor  fruit  on  the  tree; 
Yet  the  maid  of  Llanwellyn  smiles  sweetly  on 

me. 


SONG    BOOK.  41 

|Rich  Owen  will  tell  you,  with  eyes  full  of 

scorn, 
Thread-bare  is  my  coat,  and  my  hosen  are  torn ; 
Scoff  on,  my  rich  Owen,  for  faint  is  thy  glee, 
While  the  maid  of  Llanwellyn  smiles  sweetly 

on  me. 

iThe  farmer  rides  proudly  to  market  and  fair, 
And  the  clerk  at  the  tavern  still  claims  the 

great  chair; 
But  of  all  our  proud  fellows  the  proudest  I'll  be, 
While  the  maid  of  Llanwellyn  smiles  sweetly 

on  me. 

GOD  SAVE  THE  KING. 

God  save  our  noble  King, 
William  the  Fourth  we  sing; 

God  save  the  King. 
Send  him  victorious, 
Happy  and  glorious, 
Long  to  reign  over  us: 

God  save  the  Kins'. 


■d- 


Our  Lord,  our  God  arise, 
Guard  him  from  enemies, 

Or  make  them  fall; 
May  peace  with  plenty  crowned, 
Throughout  his  realms  abound, 
So  be  his  name  renowned; 

God  save  us  all. 


42  jack  downing's 


^s» 


Or  should  some  foreign  band 
Dare  to  this  favored  land 

Discord  to  bring, 
May  our  brave  William's,  name, 
Proud  in  the  lists  of  fame, 
Bring  them  to  scorn  and  shame: 

God  save  the  Kins:. 


■&' 


Thy  choicest  gifts  in  store 
On  William  deign  to  pour, 

Joy  round  him  fling; 
May  he  defend  our  laws, 
And  ever  give  us  cause 
To  sing  with  heart  and  voice, 

God  save  the  Kins:. 


•a' 


WHAT  'S  AN   OLD  BACHELOR  LIKE  ? 

Dame  Nature  one  day,  in  a  comical   mood, 

While  mixing  the  mould  to  make  man, 
Was  struck  with  a  thought  as  the  ingredients 
she  viewed, 
To  alter  a  little  her  plan. 
Her  children  she  knew  were  much  given  to 
rove; 
So  temp'ring  the  clay  with  great  art, 
She  sparingly  threw  in  the  soft  seeds  of  love, 

That  usually  spring  round  the  heart; — 
But  she  quickly  repented,  though  too  late  it 

is  true, 
For  a  fusty  old  bachelor  stood  forth  to  view; 
Yes,  an  old  bachelor,  a  fusty  old  bachelor. 


•% 


SONG    BOOK.  43 


What  's  an  old  bachelor  like?  why, 

I  'II  tell  you — an  old  bachelor  is  like — is  like 

A  tree  without  a  branch, 

A  buck  without  a  haunch, 

A  knife  without  a  fork, 

A  bottle  without  a  cork, 

A  key  without  a  lock, 

A  wig  without  a  block. 
Thus  you  see,  my  good  friends,  what  a  whim- 
sical creature 
Was  formed  in  a  frolic,  by  old  madam  Nature. 

The    world    ever   since  has  been  teased   by 
these  creatures, 
Well  known  by  their  stiff,  formal  strut; 
Their  dull,  downcast  look,  crabbed,  vinegar 
features, 
And  dress  of  true  bachelor  cut 
The  bright  blaze  of  beauty  can't  warm  their 
old  clay: 
Disliked  by  maid,  widow  and  wife, 
In  a  kind  of  half  stupor,  the  days  pass  away 

Of  these  blanks  in  the  lottery  of  life. 
Thus  curtailed  of  pleasure — a  stranger  to  love, 
The  fusty  old  bachelor  's  destined  to  rove; 
Yes,  the  old  bachelor,  the  fusty  old  bachelor. 
What  's  an  old  bachelor  like?  why, 
A  ship  without  a  sail, 
A  cat  without  a  tail, 
Cellar  without  the  wine,  O, 
Purse  without  the  rhino, 


44  JACK  DOWNING^ 

A  watch  without  a  chain, 
A  skull  without  the  brain. 
Thus  you  see,  &c. 


Now,  mark!  if  the  sexes  in  number  agree, 

As  some  queer  philosophers  think, 
(Full  many  a  damsel's  soft  heart,  I  foresee, 

At  this  part  of  my  story  would  sink,) 
As  two  wives  at  once,  men  are  here  not  al- 
lowed, 
Unless  their  suit  parliament  aids, 
And  as   bachelor's  stupid  our  streets  daily 
crowd, 
It  follows — there  must  be  old  maids. 
Thus  we  get  from  the  smoke  nearly  into  the 

smother, 
For  one  evil  treads  fast  on  the  heels  of  another; 
Oh!  fie  on  all  bachelors!    all   flinty-hearted 

bachelors! 
What 's  an  old  bachelor  like?  why, 
A  bell  without  a  clapper, 
A  door  without  a  rapper, 
A  drum  without  a  fife, 
Butcher  without  a  knife, 
Sun  without  the  moon, 
Dish  without  the  spoon, 
Thus  you  see,  &c. 

DAME  DURDEN. 

Dame  Durden  kept  five  serving  girls, 
To  carry  the  milking  pail; 


SONG    BOOK.  45 

She  also  kept  five  laboring  men> 

To  use  the  spade  and  flail. 
'T  was  Moll,  and  Bet,  and  Doll,  and  Kate, 

And  Dorothy  Draggletail; 
And  Joe,  and  Jack,  and  Tom,  and  Dick,- 
And  Humphrey  with  his  flail. 
'T  was  Joe  kissed  Molly! 
And  Jack  kissed  Betty ! 
And  Tom  kissed  Dolly! 
And  Dick  kissed  Katy! 
And  Dorothy  Draggletail,  rJ|fcr 
And  Humphrey,  with  his  flail; 
And  Kitty  was  a  charming  girl 
To  carry  the  milking  pail. 

Dame  Durden  in  the  morn  so  soon 

She  did  begin  to  call, 
To  rouse  her  servants,  maids  and  men, 

She  then  began  to  bawl. 

'T  was  Moll  and  Bet,  &c. 

'T  was  on  the  morn  of  Valentine, 

The  birds  began  to  prate; 
Dame  Durden's  servants,  maids  and  men, 

They  all  began  to  mate. 

'T  was  Moll  and  Bet,  &c. 


i 


THE  MERRY  MOUNTAIN  HORN. 

Come,  my  gallant  soldier,  come, 
Leave  the  ^roud  embattled  field, 


46  jack  dow;\IjN"g?s 

Shrilly  fife,  and  rolling  drum, 

All  the  pleasures  war  can  yield; 
•Quickly  come,  again  behold 

The  happy  land  where  thou  wert  born, 
And  hear  its  music  sweet  and  bold, 
The  merry  mountain  horn. 

The  merry  mountain  horn! 
Yhu — i — eo — ei — o — yhu, 
The  merrv  mountain  horn! 

In  thy  native  valley  find, 

Far  away  from  pomp  and  power, 

Constant  love  and  peace  of  mind, 
Here,  in  bright  affection's  bower. 
Quickly  come,  &c. 

HARK!  HARK!  THE  SOFT  BUGLE. 

Hark!  hark!  the  soft  basle  sounds  over  the 
wood, 

And  thrills  in  the  silence  of  even; 
Till  faint  and  more  faint  in  the  far  solitude, 

It  dies  on  the  portals  of  heaven! 
Rut  echo  springs  up  from  her  home  in  the  rock, 

And  seizes  the  perishing  strain; 
And  sends  the  gay  challenge  with  shadowy 
li.ock, 

From  mountain  to  mountain  again.  *^i 

Oh!  ihus  let  my  love,  like  a  sound  of  delight 
Be  round  thee  while  shines  the  glad  day, 


» 


SONG   BOOK.  47 

And  leave  thee  unpained  in  the  silence  of  night, 

And  die  like  sweet  music  away. 
"While  Hope,  with  her  warm  light,  thy  glan- 
cing eye  fills, 
Oh!  sav,  *  Like  that  echoing  strain, 
Though  the  sotmd  of  his  love  has  died  over 
the  hills, 
'Twill  echo  in  heaven  again!' 

BUY  A  BROOM. 

From  Teutchland  I  come  with  my  light  wares 
all  laden, 
To  dear,  happy  England,  in  summer's  gay 
bloom; 
Then  listen  fair  lady,  and  yon,  pretty  maiden, 
Oh,  buy  of  the  wandering  Bavarian  a  broom: 
Buy  a  broom,  buy  a  broom,  buy  a  broom;  / 
Oh  buy  of  the  wandering,  &c. 

To  brush  away  insects  that  sometimes  annoy 
you, 
You  '11  find  it  quite  handy  to  use  night  and 
day; 
And  what  better  exercise,  pray,  can  employ 
you, 
Than  to  sweep  all  vexatious  intruders  away? 
Buy  a  broom,  &c. 

Ere  winter  comes  on,  for  sweet  home  soon 
departing, 
My  toils  for  your  favor  again  I  "il  resume; 


48  jack  downing's 

And  while  gratitude's  tear  in  my  eye-lid  is 
starting, 
Bless  the  time  that  in  England  I  cried 
Buy  a  broom,  &c. 

Spoken. — Yes,  I  shall  go  back  to  my  own 
country,  and  tell  them  there,  ]  sold  all  my 
wares  in  England;  singing — 

O,  mein  lieber  Augustin,  Augustin,  Augustin, 
O,  mein  lieber  Augustin,  alles  ist  weg: 
Pock  ist  weg,  stock  ist  weg,  auch  ich  bim  in 

dem  dreck, 
O,  mein  lieber  Augustin,  alles  ist  w%g. 

THE  DASHING  WHITE  SERGEANT. 

If  I  had  a  beau, 

For  a  soldier  who  'd  go, 

Do  you  think  I  'd  say  no?  , 

No,  no,  not  I! 
When  his  red  coat  I  saw, 
Not  a  sigh  would  I  draw, 
But  I  'd  give  him  '  eclat' 
For  his  bravery. 
If  an  army  of  amazons  e'er  came  in  play, 
As  a  dashing  white  sergeant  I  'd  quick  march 
away. 

March  away. 

When  my  soldier  was  gone, 
D'ye  think  I  'd  take  on, 


SONG    BOOK.  49 

Sit  moping  forlorn? 

No,  no,  not  I! 
His  fame  my  concern, 
How  my  bosom  would  burn, 
When  I  saw  him  return, 

Crowned  with  victory! 

If  an  army  of  amazons,  &c. 

|  THE  DOWNHILL  OF  LIFE. 

In  the  downhill  of  life  when  I  find  I  'm  de- 
clining, 
May  my  fate  no  less  fortunate  be, 
rhan  a  snug  elbow-chair  can  afford  for   re- 
clining, 
And  a  cot  that  o'erlooks  the  wide  sea; 
With  an  ambling  pad  pony  to  pace  o  'er  the  lawn 

While  I  carol  away  idle Iwrow; 
And  blithe  as  the  lark  that  each  dav  hails  the 
dawn, 
Look  forward  with  hope  for  to-morrow. 

With  a  porch  at  my  door,  both  for  shelter 
and  shade  too, 
As  the  sunshine  or  rain  may  prevail, 
\nd  a  small  spot  of  ground  for  the  use  of  the 
spade  too, 
With  a  barn  for  the  use  of  the  flail ; 
\  cow  for  my  dairy,  a  dog  for  my  game, 
And   a  purse  when  my  friends  want   to 
borrow ; 
3 


50  jack  downing's 

I  'd  envy  no  nabob  his  riches  or  fame, 
Or  the  honors  that  wait  him  to-morrow. 

From  the  bleak  northern  blast,  may  my  cot 
be  completely 
Secured  by  a  neighboring  hill, 
And  at  night  may  repose  steal  on  me  more 
sweetly, 
By  the  sound  of  the  murmuring  rill. 
And  while  peace  and  plenty  I  find  at  my  board, 
With  a  heart  free  from  sickness  and  sorrow, 
With  my  friends  will  I  share  what  to-day 
may  afford, 
And  let  them  spread  the  table  to-morrow. 

And  when  I  at  last  must  throw  off  this  frail 
covering, 
That  I've  worn  for  years  three  score  and  ten ; 
On  the  brink  of  the  grave  I  '11  not  seek  to 
keep  hovering, 
Nor  my  thread  wish  to  spin  o'er  again; 
But  my  face  in  the  glass  I  '11  serenely  survey, 
And  with  smiles  count  each  wrinkle  and 
furrow ; 
As  this  worn  out  old  stuff,  which  is  thread- 
*•   bare  to-day, 
May  become  everlasting  to-morrow. 

BAY  OF  BISCAY,  O. 

Loud  roared  the  dreadful  thunder, 
The  rain  a  deluge  showers, 


L 


SONG    BOOK.  51 

The  clouds  were  rent  asunder, 
By  lightning's  vivid  powers. 

The  night  both  drear  and  dark, 

Our  poor  devoted  bark, 

Till  next  day,  there  she  lay, 
In  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  O. 

Now  dashed  upon  the  billow, 

Our  opening  timbers  creak; 
Each  fears  a  watery  pillow, 

None  stop  the  dreadful  leak; 
To  cling  to  slippery  shrouds, 
Each  breathless  seaman  crowds, 
As  she  lay,  till  the  day, 

In  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  O. 

At  length  the  wished-for  morrow 
Broke  through  the  hazy  sky; 

Absorbed  in  silent  sorrow, 
Each  heaved  a  bitter  sigh. 

The  dismal  wreck  to  view, 

Struck  horror  to  the  crew, 

As  she  lay,  on  that  day, 
In  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  O. 

Her  yielding  timbers  sever, 

Her  pitchy  seams  are  rent, 
When  Heaven,  all-bounteous  ever, 

Its  boundless  mercy  sent. 
A  sail  in  sight  appears, 
We  hail  her  with  three  cheers; 


52  jack  downing's 

Now  we  sail,  with  the  gale, 

From  the  Bay  of  Biscay,  O.        • 

MY  HEART  AND  LUTE. 

I  give  thee  all,  I  can  no  more, 

Though  poor  the  offering  be; 
My  heart  and  lute  are  all  the  store 

That  I  can  bring  to  thee. 
A  lute  whose  gentle  song  reveals 

The  soul  of  love  full  well ; 
And  better  far,  a  heart  that  feels 

Much  more  than  lute  can  tell. 
I  give  thee  all,  &c. 

Though  love  and  song  may  fail,  alas! 

To  keep  life's  clouds  away, 
At  least  't  will  make  them  lighter  pass, 

Or  glad  them  if  they  stay. 
If  ever  care  his  discord  flings, 

O'er  life's  enchanted  strain, 
Let  love  but  gently  touch  the  strings, 

'T  will  all  be  sweet  again. 

I  give  thee  all,  &c. 

THE  MINUTE  GUN  AT  SEA. 

Let  him  who  sighs  in  sadness  here, 
Rejoice,  and  know  a  friend  is  near. 
What  heavenly  sounds  are  those  I  hear? 
What  being  comes  the  gloom  to  cheer? 


SONG    BOOK.  53 

When  in  the  storm  on  Albion's  coast, 
The  night-watch  guards  his  weary  post, 

From  thoughts  of  danger  free; 
He  marks  some  vessel's  dusky  form, 
And  hears  amid  the  howling  storm, 

The  minute  gun  at  sea. 

Swift  on  the  shore  a  hardy  few 

The  life-boat  man,  with  a  gallant  crew, 

And  dare  the  dang'rous  wave; 
Through  the  wild  surf  they  cleave  their  way, 
Lost  in  the  foam,  nor  know  dismay, 

For  they  go  the  crew  to  save. 
But  oh,  what  rapture  fills  each  breast, 
Of  the  hapless  crew  of  the  ship  distressed! 
Then  landed  safe,  what  joys  to  tell 
Of  all  the  dangers  that  befel. 

Then  is  heard  no  more, 

By  the  watch  on  shore, 
The  minute  gun  at  sea. 

BEHAVE    YOURSEL'    BEFORE   FOLK. 

Behave  yourseP  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 
And  dinna  be  sae  rude  to  me, 

As  kiss  me  sae  before  folk. 
It  wadna  gi'e  me  meikle  pain, 
Gin  we  were  seen  and  heard  by  nane, 
To  tak'  a  kiss,  or  grant  you  ane; 

But,  gudesake!  nae  before  folk. 


54  jack  downing's 

Behave  yourseP  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 

Whate'er  you  do,  when  out  o'  view, 

Be  cautious  aye  before  folk. 

Consider,  lad,  how  folks  will  crack, 
And  what  a  great  affair  they  '11  mak* 
O'  naething  but  a  simple  smack, 

That's  gien  or  taen  before  folk. 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 
Nor  gi'e  the  tongue  o*  auld  or  young 

Occasion  to  come  o'er  folk. 

It 's  nae  through  hatred  o'  a  kiss, 
That  I  sae  plainly  tell  you  this; 
But,  losh!  I  tak'  it  sair  amiss 

To  be  sae  teased  before  folk. 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 
When  we  're  our  lane  ye  may  tak'  ane 

But  fient  a  ane  before  folk. 

I  'm  sure  wi'  you  I  've  been  as  free 
As  ony  modest  lass  should  be; 
But  yet,  it  doesna  do  to  see 

Sic  freedom  used  before  folk. 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 
I  '11  ne'er  submit  again  to  it — 

So  mind  you  that — before  folk, 


SONG    BOOK.  55 

Ye  tell  me  that  my  face  is  fair; 
It  may  be  sae — I  dinna  care — 
But  ne'er  again  gar  't  blush  sae  sair 

As  ye  hae  done  before  folk. 

Behave  yourseP  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 
Nor  heat  my  cheeks  wi'  your  mad  freaks; 

But  aye  be  douce  before  folk. 

Ye  tell  me  that  my  lips  are  sweet; 
Sic  tales,  I  doubt,  are  a'  deceit; 
At  ony  rate,  it 's  hardly  meet 

To  praise  their  sweets  before  folk. 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 
Gin  that 's  the  case,  there  }s  time  and  place.; 

But  surely  nae  before  folk. 

But,  gin  ye  really  do  insist 
That  I  should  suffer  to  be  kissed, 
Gae,  get  a  license  frae  the  priest, 

And  make  me  yours  before  folk. 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk, 

Behave  yoursel'  before  folk; 
And  when  we  're  ane,  baith  flesh  and  bane, 

Ye  may  tak'  ten  before  folk. 

IT  WAS  DUNOIS  THE  YOUNG  AND 

BRAVE. 

It  was  Dunois  the  young  and  brave, 
Was  bound  for  Palestine; 


56  jack  downing's 

But  first  he  made  his  orisons 

Before  Saint  Mary's  shrine; 
c  And  grant,  immortal  Queen  of  Heaven,' 

Was  still  the  soldier's  prayer, 
*  That  I  may  prove  the  bravest  knight, 

And  love  the  fairest  fair.' 

His  oath  of  honor  on  the  shrine, 

He  graved  it  with  his  sword, 
And  followed  to  the  Holy  Land, 

The  banner  of  his  Lord; 
Where,  faithful  to  his  noble  vow, 

His  war-cry  filled  the  air — 
■  Be  honored  aye  the  bravest  knight, 

Beloved  the  fairest  fair.' 

They  owed  the  conquest  to  his  arm — 

And  then  his  liege  lord  said — 
«  The  heart  that  has  for  honor  beat, 

By  bliss  must  be  repaid; 
My  daughter  Isabel  and  thou 

Shall  be  a  wedded  pair; 
For  thou  art  bravest  of  the  brave, 

She  fairest  of  the  fair.' 

And  then  they  bound  the  holy  knot, 

Before  Saint  Mary's  shrine, 
That  makes  a  paradise  on  earth, 

If  hearts  and  hands  combine; 
And  every  lord  and  lady  bright, 

That  were  in  chapel  there, 


SONG    BOOK.  57 

Jried,  'Honored  be  the  bravest  knight, 
Beloved  the  fairest  fair.' 

DULCE  DOMUM. 

Deep  in  a  vale  a  cottage  stood, 

Oft  sought  by  travellers  weary, 
And  long  it  proved  the  blest  abode 

Of  Edward  and  of  Mary. 
For  her  he  chased  the  mountain  goat, 

O'er  alps  and  glaciers  bounding; 
For  her  the  chamois  he  would  shoot, 
Dark  horrors  all  surrounding. 
But  evening  come, 
He  sought  his  home, 
And  anxious,  lovely  woman; 
She  hailed  the  sight, 
And  every  night, 
The  cottage  rung, 
As  thus  they  sung; 
Oh!  dulce,  dulce  domum. 

But  soon,  alas!  this  scene  of  bliss 

Was  changed  to  prospects  dreary; 
For  war  and  honor  roused  each  Swiss, 

And  Edward  left  his  Mary. 
To  bold  St.  Gothard's  heights  he  rushed, 

'Gainst  Gallia's  foes  contending; 
And  by  unequalled  numbers  crushed, 

He  died,  his  land  defending. 
The  evening  come, 
He  sought  not  home, 


58  jack  downing's 

Whilst  she,  distracted  woman, 

Grown  wild  with  dread, 

Now  seeks  him  dead ; 

And  hears  the  knell 

That  bids  farewell 
To  dulce,  dulce  domum, 

AULD  ROBIN  GRAY. 

Young  Jamie  lo'ed  me  weel,  and  he  sougl 

me  for  his  bride, 
But  saving  a  crown,  he  had  nothing  beside: 
To  make  that  crown  a  pund,  my  Jamie  gac 

to  sea, 
And  the  crown  and  the  pund  were  baith  for  m 
He  had  na  been  awa  a  week,  but  only  twa. 
When  my  mither  she  fell  sick,  and  the  co1 

was  stown  awa, 
My  father  brak  his  arm,  and  my  Jamie  at  tl 

sea, 
And  auld  Robin  Gray  cam  a-courting  me. 

My  father  cou'd  na  work,   and  my  mith( 

cou'd  na  spin 
I  toiled  day  and  night,  but  their  bread  I  cou' 

na  win:  . 

Auld  Rob  maintained  them  b^ith,  and  w 

tears  in  his  ee, 
Said  Jenny,  for  their  sakes,  O!  marry  me. 
My  heart  it  said  nay,  I  looked  for  Jamie  bacl 
Put  the  wind  it  blew  high,  and  the  ship 

proved  a  wreck; 


SONG   BOOK.  59 

he  ship  it  proved  a  wreck,  why  didna  Jen- 
ny die? 
nd  why  do  I  live  to  say,  waes  me  ? 

uld  Robin  argued  sair,  though  my  mither 

didna  speak, 
he  looked  in  my  face  till  my  heart  was  like 

to  break; 
to  they  gied  him  my  hand,  though  my  heart 

was  at  the  sea, 
nd  auld  Robin  Gray  is  a  gude  man  to  me. 
,  hadna  been  a  wife  a  week,  but  only  four, 
y'hen  sitting  sae  mournfully  at  the  door, 
saw  my  Jamie's  wraith,  for  I  couldna  think 

it  he, 
ntil  he  said,  Jenny  I'm  come  to  marry  thee. 

,  sair  did  we  greet,  and  muckle  did  we  say, 
^e  took  but  ae  kiss,  and  tore  ourselves  away: 
wish  I  were  dead,  but  I  'm  nae  like  to  die, 
nd  why  do  I  live,  to  say  waes  me  ? 
gang  like  a  ghaist,  I  carena  to  spin, 
darena  think  on  Jamie,  for  that  wad  be  a  sin. 
iut  I  '11  do  my  best  a  gude  wife  to  be, 
or  auld  Robin  Gray  is  kind  unto  me. 

LOONEY    MACTWOLTER. 

",  whack!  Cupid  's  a  mannikin; 
Smack  on  my  heart  he  hit  me  a  polter. 
ood  lack,  Judy  O'Flannikin! 
Dearly  she  loves  nate  Looney  Mactwolter, 


60  jack  downing's  A 

Judy  's  my  darling,  my  kisses  she  suffers; 
She  's  an  heiress,  that  's  clear, 
For  her  father  sells  beer; 
He  keeps  the  sign  of  the  cow  and  the  snuffers,  i 
She  's  so  smart, 
From  my  heart 
I  cannot  bolt  her. 
Oh,  whack!  Judy  O'Flannikin! 
She  is  the  girl  for  Looney  Mactwolter. 
Oh,  whack!  &c. 

Oh,  hone!  good  news  I  need  a  bit; 

We  'd  correspond,  but  laming  would  choke 
her: 
Mavrone!  I  cannot  read  a  bit; 

Judy  can't  tell  a  pen  from  a  poker. 
Judy  's  so  constant,  I  '11  never  forsake  her; 
She  's  true  as  the  moon, — 
Only  one  afternoon 
I  caught  her  asleep  with  a  humpback  shoeJ 
maker. 

She  's  so  smart,  &c. 

THE  LIGHT  HOUSE.  \ 

The  scene  was  more  beautiful,  far,  to  my  eye, 
Than  if  day  in  her  pride  had  arrayed  it; 

The  land-breeze  blew  mild,  and  the  azure- 
arched  sky 
Looked  as  pure  as  the  spirit  that  made  it; 

The  murmur  rose  soft,  as  I  silently  gazed 
On  the  shadowy  wave's  playful  motion, 


1  JACK   DOWNING'S 

rom  the  dim,  distant  hill,  till  the  light-house 

fire  blazed, 
Like  a  star  in  the  midst  of  the  ocean. 

<o  longer  the  joy  in  the  sailor-boy's  breast 

Was  heard  in  his  wildly  breathed  numbers; 
?he  sea-bird  has  flown  to  her  wave-girdled 
nest; 
The  fisherman  sunk  to  his  slumbers. 
)ne  moment  I  looked  from  the  hill's  gentle 
slope, 
All  hushed  was  the  billow's  commotion, 
ind  thought  that  the  light-house  looked  love- 
ly as  hope, 
That  star  of  life's  tremulous  ocean. 

Che  time  is  long  past,  and  the  scene  is  afar, 

Yet  when  my  head  rests  on  its  pillow, 
Vill  memory  sometimes  rekindle  the  star 

That  blazed  on  the  breast  of  the  billow; 
n  life's  closing  hour,  when  the  trembling  soul 
flies, 

And  death  stills  the  heart's  last  emotion; 
),  then  may  the  seraph  of  mercy  arise, 

Like  a  star  on  eternity's  ocean. 

VLL  THE  BLUE  BONNETS  ARE  OVER 
THE  BORDER. 

4arch!  march!  Ettrick  and  Teviotdale! 
Why,  my  lads,  dinna  ye  march  forward  in 
order? 


62  jack  downing's 

March!  march!  Eskdale  and  Llddesdale! 
All  the  blue  bonnets  are  over  the  border. 
Many  a  banner  spread, 
Flutters  above  your  head ; 
Many  a  crest  that  is  famous  in  story; 
Mount  and  make  ready  then, 
Sons  of  the  mountain  glen, 
Fight  for  your  king,  and  the  old  Scottish  bor- 
der. 

Come  from  the  hills  where  your  hirsels  are 
grazing; 
Come  from  the  glen  of  the  buck  and  the  roe 
Come  to  the  crag  where  the  beacon  is  blazing; 
Come  with  the  buckler,  the  lance,  and  the 
bow. 
Trumpets  are  sounding, 
War  steeds  are  bounding, 
Stand  to  your  arms  and  march  in  good  order; 
England  shall  many  a  day, 
Tell  of  the  bloody  fray, 

When  the  blue  bonnets  came  over  the  border. 

c 

OFT,  IN  THE  STILLY  NIGHT. 

Oft,  in  the  stilly  night, 

Ere  slumber's  chain  has  bound  me, 
Fond  memory  brings  the  light 

Of  other  days  around  me; 
The  smiles  and  tears  of  boyhood's  years; 
The  words  of  love  then  spoken; 


SONG    BOOK.  63 

The  eyes  that  shone,  now  dimmed  and  gone; 
The  cheerful  hearts  now  hroken. 
Thus  in  the  stilly  night,  &c. 

When  I  remember  all 

The  friends  thus  linked  together, 
I  've  seen  around  me  fall, 

Like  leaves  in  wintry  weather; 
[  feel  like  one  who  treads  alone, 

Some  banquet-hall  deserted, 
Whose  lights  are  fled,  whose  garlands  dead, 
And  all  but  me  departed. 

Thus  in  the  stilly  night,  &c. 

HOME,  SWEET  HOME. 
'Mid  pleasures  and  palaces,  though  we  may 

roam, 
Be  it  ever  so  humble,  there  's  no  place  like 

home; 
A  charm  from  the  skies,  seems  to  hallow  us 

there, 
Which,  seek  through  the  world,  is  ne'er  met 
with  elsewhere. 
Home,  home,  sweet  home, 
There  's  no  place  like  home. 

An  exile  from  home,  splendor  dazzles  in  vain; 
3h!  give  me  my  lowly  thatched  cottage  again; 
The  birds  singing  gaily,  that  come  at  my  call, 
~ive  me  them  with  sweet  peace  of  mind, 
dearer  than  all. 


64  jack  downing's 

If  I  return  home,  overburdened  with  care, 
The  heart's  dearest  solace  I  'm  sure  to  meet 

there; 
The  bliss  I  experience  whenever  I  come, 
Makes  no  other  place  seem  like  that  of  sweet 

home. 

Home,  sweet  home,  &c. 

Farewell,  peaceful  cottage!  farewell,  happy 

home! 
Forever  I  'm  doomed  a  poor  exile  to  roam; 
This  poor,  aching  heart  must  be  laid  in  the 

tomb, 
Ere  it  cease  to  regret  the  endearments  of  home. 
Home,  sweet  home,  &c. 

ARAB  STEED. 

Oh,  give  me  but  my  Arab  steed, 

A  shield  and  falchion  bright, 
And  I  will  to  the  battle  speed, 

To  save  him  in  the  fight. 
His  noble  crest  I  '11  proudly  wear, 

And  gird  his  scarf  around  ; 
But  I  must  to  the  field  repair, 
But  I  must  to  the  field,  repair, 

For  hark!  the  trumpets  sound! 
Hark!  hark!  hark!  the  trumpets  sound ! 
Oh,  give  me  but  my  Arab  steed,  &c. 

Oh!  with  my  ArftS  steed  I  '11  go, 
To  brave  the  embattled  plain, 


SONG   BOOK.  65 

Where  warriors  brave  their  valor  show, 

And  drain  each  noble  vein: 
His  brow  that  oft  the  battle  braves, 

With  fadeless  laurels  crowned, 
Shall  guide  me  where  his  falchion  waves, 
Shall  guide  me,  &c. 

'T  IS  HOME  WHERE  THE  HEART  IS. 

*T  i3  home  where'er  the  heart  is, 

Where'er  its  loved  ones  dwell; 
In  cities  or  in  cottages, 

Thronged  haunts  or  mossy  dell ; 
The  heart 's  a  rover  ever; 

And  thus  on  wave  and  wild, 
The  maiden  with  her  lover  walks, 

The  mother  with  her  child. 

'T  is  bright  where'er  the  heart  is; 

Its  fairy  spells  can  bring 
Fresh  fountains  to  the  wilderness, 

And  to  the  desert — spring. 
There  are  green  isles  in  each  ocean, 

O'er  which  affection  glides; 
And  a  haven  on  each  sunny  shore, 

Where  Love  's  the  star  that  guides. 

'T  is  free  where'er  the  heart  is; 

No  chains,  nor  dungeon  dim, 
May  check  the  mind's  aspirings, 

The  spirit's  pealing  hymn! 

4 


66  jack  downing's 

The  heart  gives  life  its  beauty, 

Its  glory,  and  its  power — 
'T  is  sunlight  to  its  rippling  stream, 

And  soft  dew  to  its  flower. 

DRINK  TO  ME  ONLY  WITH  THINE 

EYES. 

Drink  to  me  only  with  thine  eyes, 
And  I  will  pledge  with  mine; 

Or  leave  a  kiss  but  in  the  cup, 
And  I  '11  not  look  for  wine. 

The  thirst  that  from  my  soul  doth  rise, 

Doth  ask  a  drink  divine ; 
But  might  I  of  Jove's  nectar  sip, 

I  would  not  change  for  thine. 

I  sent  thee  late  a  rosy  wreath ; 

Not  so  much  honoring  thee, 
As  giving  it  in  hope  that  there 

It  would  not  withered  be. 

But  thou  thereon  didst  only  breathe, 

And  sent  it  back  to  me; 
Since  then  it  grows  and  smells,  I  swear, 

Not  of  itself,  but  thee. 

MY  BONNIE  LASS,  NOW  TURN  TO  ME. 

My  bonnie  lass,  now  turn  to  me, 
And  gie  a  smile  to  cheer  me; 


SONG    BOOK.  G7 

An  honest  heart  I  '11  gie  to  thee, 
For  in  truth  I  love  thee  dearly. 
Come,  o'er  the  heather  we  '11  trip  together, 
All  in  the  morning  early; 

With  heart  and  hand  I  '11  by  thee  stand, 
For  in  truth  I  love  thee  dearly. 
Come,  o'er  the  heather  we  '11  trip  together, 
I  heed  neither  mother,  nor  father,  nor  brother, 
With  heart  and  hand,  &c. 

There  's  many  a  lass  I  love  full  well, 
And  many  who  love  me  dearly; 

But  there  's  ne'er  a  one,  except  thysel', 
That  I  e'er  could  love  sincerely. 

Come  o'er  the  heather,  &c. 

THE  YANKEE  TEA-PARTY. 

King  George  sat  high  on  his  family  throne,  ■ 
*The  lord  of  the  isles'  that  were  fairly  his  own, 
And  might  have  sufficed, had  his  majesty  known 

The  folly  of* coveting  more; 
But  seeking  a  tribute,  his  pomp  to  maintain, 
He  reached  from  the  island  to  grasp  at  the  main, 
Intending  his  coffers  should  chink  with  the  gain 

That  was  brought  from  a  distant  shore. 

And  when  he  had  summoned  in  solemn  array, 
His  ministers  round  him,  to  canvass  a  way 
In  which  he  might  make  the  Americans  pay 
The  costs  of  the  roval  court: 


68  jack  downing's 

'Our  liege,'  said  they,  'there  's  many  a  ship, 
That  might  be  sent  on  an  Indian  trip, 
And  freighted  with  tea  for  a  new  world  to  sip, 
And  do  it  for  our  support. 

■  'T  is  done!'  said  the  King;    c  't  is  a  good 

bright  thought; 
For  this  will  be  sponging  so  easily  wrought, 
That  the  ships  shall  with  Indian  leaves  be 
fraught, 
And  sent  to  our  subject  land! 
We  '11  make  Columbia  swallow  our  tea, 
And  pay  her  duty  far  over  the  sea, 
On  every  pound,  for  "  our  powers  that  be," 
To  put  in  her  royal  hand.' 

And  in  due  season,  and  true  British  state, 
With  their  sails  puffed  out,  and  their  heads 

held  straight, 
When  the  ships  rode  up  with  the  well  packed 

freight, 
To  the  shores  of  the  western  world; 
This  order  imperial  echoed  around: 

■  The  teas  must  be  bought,  and  the  buyer  is 

bound 
To  pay  us  a  duty  on  every  pound,' 
While  the  canvass  in  port  was  furled. 

But  cNo!'  said  the  friends  of  the  city  of  Penn; 
*  George  is  a  mortal,  and  Quakers  are  men! 
Your  leaves  may  float  o'er  the  ocean  again; 
For  soberly  we  protest, 


SONG    BOOK.  69 

That  we  never  will  open  a  traitorous  door, 
To  let  such  a  cargo  come  into  a  store; 
Unentered,    unopened,   withdraw   from   our 
shore, 
The  treasures  of  every  chest!' 

And,  ■  No!'  was  the  word  at  the  place  of  the 

Dutch; 
'T  is  grinding  our  faces  a  little  too  much, 
Broad  as  they  be — and  your  teas  shall   not 

touch 
Our  land,  while  by  us  it  is  trod! 
The  duty  we  owe  to  ourselves,  and  the  throne, 
Is  not  to  be  crushed  by  a  foot  like  our  own, 
And  that  of  the  Briton  is  so  overgrown, 
We  '11  have  it  more  tightly  shod!' 

But  the  spirited  Yankees  knew  just  the  thing 
That  would  suit  them  if  it  did  n't  the  king: 
And  when  the  proud  sails  came  flying  to  bring 

Their  freight  o'er  the  glassy  bay, 
They  met,  and  agreed  that  't  would  not  be 

right, 
His  majesty's  offer  of  tea  to  slight; 
For  they  viewed  the  affair  in  a  national  light, 

As  they  showed  in  a  national  way. 

They  joined  in  the  council,  and  forming  a  band 
Arrayed  like  the  children  who  sprung  from 

the  land, 
In  blanket  and  feather,  with  hatchet  in  hand, 
And  their  faces  and  limbs  o'erlaid 


70  jack  downing's 

With  copper  and  coating  of  paint,  they  took 
Their  way  to  the  ship,  while  the  tomahawks 

shook, 
And  the  wild  powow  made  the  royalist  look 
Aghast,  for  the  turn  of  his  trade. 

1  Come,'  said  the  visiters,  *  now  for  our  tea! 
We  '11  take  it  on  deck,  if  you  please,  and  see, 
Of  gunpowder,  souchong,  green,  hyson,  bohea, 

Which  flavor  we  like  the  best!' 
Then  box  after  box  came  up  close  packed, 
And  lid  after  lid  was  smitten  and  cracked, 
As  the  red  hand  worked,  and  the  tomahawk 
hacked, 

And  entered  each  odorous  chest. 

c  This,'  said  the  company,  '  this  is  the  way 
That  we,  the  Yankees,  are  going  to  pay 
Our  duty  on  teas,  and  help  to  defray 

The  cost  of  the  kingly  cup! 
We  are  going  to  leave  every  pound  to  steep, 
With  its  impost  on,  in  the  boiling  deep, 
And  the  good  strong  brine,  where  we  guess 
't  will  keep, 

Till  the  parliament  draws  it  up!' 

Then  over  the  sides  of  the  ship  they  poured 
The  treasure  of  every  box  on  board, 
That  hissed  as  they  went,  till  the  dock  was 
floored 
With  the  leaves  of  the  Indian  tree. 


SONG    BOOK.  71 

« We  Ml  let,'  they  cried,  'Old  England  know, 
That  bending  too  much  they  may  break  the 

bow! 
Columbia's  spirit  can't  stoop  so  low 
As  three  pence  a  pound  on  tea!' 

STAR-SPANGLED  BANNER. 

Oh,  say!  can  you  see  by  the  dawn's  early  light, 
What  so  proudly  we  hailed  at  the  twilight's 

last  gleaming, 
Whose  broad  stripes  and  bright  stars  through 

the  perilous  fight, 
O'er  the  ramparts  we  watched,   were  so 

gallantly  streaming  ? 
And  the  rockets  red  glare,  the  bombs  bursting 

in  air, 
Gave  proof  through  the  night  that  our  flag 

was  still  there ; 
Oh,  say!  does  that  star-spangled  banner  yet 

wave, 
O'er  the  land  of  the  free,  and  the  home  of 

the  brave  ? 

On  the  shore,  dimly  seen  through  the  mists  of 
the  deep, 
Where  the  foe's  haughty  host  in  dread  si- 
lence reposes, 
\YThat  is  that  which  the  breeze,  o'er  the  tow- 
ering steep, 
As  it  fitfully  blows,  half  conceals,  half  dis- 
closes ? 


72  jack  downing's 

Now  it  catches  the  gleam  of  the  morning's 

first  beam ; 
In  full  glory  reflected  now  shines  on  the  stream: 
'T  is  the  star  spangled  banner!  oh,  long  may 

it  wave, 

O'er  the  land,  &c. 

And  where  is  the  band  who  so  vauntingly  swore 
That  the  havoc  of  war  and  the  battle's  con- 
fusion, 
A  home  and  a  country  shall  leave  us  no  more? 
Their  blood  has  washed  out  their  foul  foot- 
step's pollution: 
No  refuge  could  save  the  hireling  and  slave, 
From  the  terror  of  flight,  or  the  gloom  of  the 

grave; 
And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  doth 
wave, 

O'er  the  land,  &c. 

Oh!  thus  be  it  ever,  when  freemen  shall  stand 
Between  their  loved  home,  and  the  war's 
desolation; 

Blest  with  vict'ry  and  peace,  may  the  heav- 
en-rescued land, 
Praise  the  power  that  hath  made  and  pre- 
served us  a  nation: 

Then  conquer  we  must,  when  our  cause  it  is 
just,  *■ 

And  this  be  our  motto — { In  God  is  our  trust.' 


SONG    BOOK.  73 

And  the  star-spangled  banner  in  triumph  shall 
wave, 

O'er  the  land,  &c. 

THE  HUNTER'S  HORN. 

Swift  from  the  covert  the  merry  pack  fled, 
While  bounding,  there  sprang  over  valley  and 

mead, 
Wide-spreading  his  antlers,  erected  his  head, 

The  stag,  his  enemies  scorning. 
Oh,  had  you  seen  then  through  valley,  through 

brake, 
Each  sportsman,  right  gallant,  his  rival  race 

take, 
'T  would  have  pleased  beauty's  ear  to  have 

heard  echo  wake, 
To  the  hunter's  horn  in  the  morning. 

Cleared  was  the  forest,  the  mountains  passed 

o'er, 
While  swiftly  their  riders  the  willing  steeds 

bore; 
The  river  rolled  deep,  while  the  stag  spurned 

the  shore, 
Yet  owned  no  timorous  warning. 
So  close  was  he  followed,  the  foam  where  he 

sprung 
Encircled  and  sparkled  the  coursers  among, 
While  the  dogs  of  the  chase  their  rude  melody 

rung, 
To  the  hunter's  horn  in  the  morning. 


74  jack  downing's 


MINSTREL'S  RETURN  FROM  THE 

WAR. 

The  minstrel  's  returned  from  the  war, 

With  spirit's  as  buoyaut  as  air; 
And  thus  on  his  tuneful  guitar, 

He  sung  in  the  bower  of  his  fair: 
'  The  noise  of  the  battle  is  over; 

The  bugle  no  more  calls  to  arms; 
A  soldier  no  more — but  a  lover, 

I  bend  to  the  power  of  thy  charms. 
Sweet  lady,  fair  lady  I  'm  thine; 

I  bend  to  the  magic  of  beauty; 
Though  the  banner  and  helmet  are  mine, 

Yet  love  calls  the  soldier  to  duty.' 

The  minstrel  his  suit  warmly  pressed; 

She  blushed,  sighed,  and  hung  down  her 
head; 
Till  conquered,  she  fell  on  his  breast, 

And  thus  to  the  happy  youth  said: 
'  The  bugle  shall  part  us,  love,  never; 

My  bosom  thy  pillow  shall  be, 
Till  death  tears  thee  from  me  forever; 

Still  faithful,  I  '11  perish  with  thee.' 
^weet  lady,  &c. 

But  fame  called  the  youth  to  the  field; 

His  banner  waved  high  o*er  his  head; 
He  gave  his  guitar  for  a  shield, 

And  soon  he  lay  low  with  the  dead; 


SONG    BOOK.  75 

While  she,  o'er  her  young  hero  bending, 

Received  his  expiring  adieu: 
*  I  die  whilst  my  country  defending, 

But  I  die  to  my  lady  love  true.' 
■  Oh,  death!'  then  she  cried,  ■  I  am  thine; 

I  tear  off  the  roses  of  beauty; 
The  grave  of  my  hero  is  mine, 

For  he  died  true  to  love  and  to  duty!' 

LOVE. 

Love  's  a  cheat;  we  over-rate  it; 

A  flatt'ring,  false,  deceitful  joy; 
A  very  nothing  can  create  it, 

A  very  nothing  can  destroy. 
The  lightning's  flash,  which  wondering  leaves 

US, 

Obscured,  and  darker  than  before; 
The  glow-worm's  tinsel,  which  deceives  us; 
A  painted  light,  and  nothing  more. 

ANSWER. 

What  is  love? — an  idle  passion? 

Sage  advisers  call  it  so: 
Can  I  treat  it  in  their  fashion? 

Honest  Nature  answers — No! 

Wise  ones,  cease! — In  vain  your  preaching; 

Age  has  turned  your  hearts  to  snow: 
Can  I  profit  by  your  teaching? 

Honest  Nature  answers — No! 


76  jack  downing's 


BILLY  LACK-A-DAY '3  LAMENT. 

Sure  mortal  man  was  born  for  sorrow; 
Grief  to-day,  and  grief  to-morrow ; 
Here  I  'm  snubbed,  and  there  I  *m  rated; 
Ne'er  was  youth  so  sittivatcd. 
Here  's  Mrs.  Bell  swears  none  shall  trick  her; 
An'  if  I  steeps  my  nose  in  liquor, 
For  every  drop  I  takes,  she  charges; 
And  our  small  ale  's  as  sour  as  warges. 
Oh,  Lack-a-day!  pity  Billy  Lack-a-day. 

Poor  Susan  scolds;  and  when  I  've  heard  her, 
I  dream  all  night  of  love  and  murder; 
I  sighs,  I  groans  like  any  pavior, 
Forgetting  all  genteel  behavior. 
Miss  Fanny,  as  she  has  undone  me, 
Like  any  queen  looks  down  upon  me; 
And  when  I  kneels  to  ask  for  mercy, 
It  does  no  good,  but  wice  wersay. 

Oh,  Lack-a-day!  pity  Billy  Lack-a-day. 

BLUE-EYED  MARY. 

6  Come,  tell  me,  blue-eyed  stranger, 
Say,  whither  dost  thou  roam? 

O'er  this  wide  world  a  ranger; 
Hast  thou  no  friends  or  home? 

'  They  called  me  blue-eyed  Mary, 
When  friends  and  fortune  smiled; 


SONG   BOOK.  77 

Bat,  ah!  how  fortunes  vary; 
I  now  am  sorrow's  child.' 

*  Come  here;  I  '11  buy  thy  flowers, 
And  ease  thy  hapless  lot; 

Still  wet  with  vernal  showers, 
I  '11  buy — forget  me  not.' 

*  Kind  sir,  then  take  these  posies; 
They  're  fading,  like  my  youth; 

But  never,  like  these  roses, 
Shall  wither  Mary's  truth. 

Look  up,  thou  poor  forsaken; 
I  '11  give  thee  house  and  home; 
v  And  if  I  'm  not  mistaken, 

Thou  'It  never  wish  to  roam.' 

*  Once  more  I  'm  happy  Mary; 
Once  more  has  fortune  smiled; 

Who  ne'er  from  virtue  vary, 
May  yet  be  fortune's  child.' 

LIFE  LET  US  CHERISH. 

Life  let  us  cherish,  while  yet  the  taper  glows; 
And  the  fresh  floweret  pluck  ere  it  close. 
Why  are  we  fond  of  toil  and  care? 
Why  choose  the  rankling  thorn  to  wear, 
And  heedless  by  the  lily  stray, 
Which  blossoms  in  our  way? 


78  jack  downing's 

When  clouds  obscure  the  atmosphere, 
And  forked  lightning's  rend  the  air, 
The  sun  resumes  its  silver  crest, 
And  smiles  adorn  the  West. 

The  genial  seasons  soon  are  o'er; 
Then  let  us,  ere  we  quit  this  shore, 
Contentment  seek;  it  is  life's  zest, 
The  sunshine  of  the  breast. 

Away  with  every  toil  and  care, 
And  cease  the  rankling  thorn  to  wear; 
With  manful  hearts  life's  conflict  meet, 
Till  death  sounds  the  retreat. 

O!  'TIS  LOVE!   'TIS  LOVE! 

O!  'tis  love!  'tis  love!  'tis  love! 

From  woman's  bright  eye  glancing; 
O!  'tis  love!  'tis  love!  'tis  love! 

Every  heart  entrancing. 
What  claims  the  monarch's  duty? 

What  soothes  the  peasant's  pain? 
What  melts  the  haughty  beauty, 

And  conquers  her  disdain? 
O!  'tis  love!  &c. 

O!  'tis  love!  'tis  love!  'tis  love! 

The  warrior  doth  inspire. 
O!  'tis  love!  'tis  love!  'tis  love! 

That  kindles  soft  desire. 


SONG    BOOK.  79 

On  rocks  or  lonely  mountains, 

In  palaces  or  vales, 
In  gay  saloons,  near  fountains, 

'T  is  love  alone  prevails. 

O!  'tis  love!  &c. 

SMILE  AGAIN,  MY  BONNIE  LASSIE. 

Smile  again,  my  bonnie  lassie, 

Lassie,  smile  again! 
Prithee,  do  not  frown,  sweet  lassie, 

For  it  gives  me  pain. 
If  to  love  thee  too  sincerely 

Be  a  fault  in  me; 
Thus  to  use  me  so  severely 

Is  not  kind  in  thee. 

Smile  again,  &c. 

Fare-thee-well,  my  bonnie  lassie; 

Lassie,  fare-thee-well; 
Time  will  show  thee,  bonnie  lassie, 

M:jre  than  tongue  can  tell. 
Though  we  're  doomed  by  fate  to  sever, 

(And  't  is  hard  to  part,) 
Still,  believe  me,  thou  shalt  ever 

Own  my  faithful  heart. 

Then,  smile  again,  &c. 

ALLEN-A-DALE. 

Allen-a-Dale  has  no  faggot  for  burning; 
Allen-a-Dale  has  no  furrow  for  turning; 


80  jack  downing's 

Allen-a-Dale  has  no  fleece  for  the  spinning; 
Yet  Allen-a-dale  has  red  gold  for  the  winning. 
Come,  read  me  my  riddle!  come,  hearken 

my  tale, 
And  tell  me  the  craft  of  bold  Allen-a-Dale. 

The  Baron  of  Ravensworth  prances  in  pride, 
And  he  views  his  domains  upon  Arkindale  side ; 
The  mere  for  his  net,  and  the  land  for  his  game, 
The  chase  for  the  wild,  and  the  park  for  the 

tame; 
Yet  the  fish  of  the  lake,  and  the  deer  of  the 

vale, 
Are  less  free  to  Lord  Dacre  than  Allen-a-Dale. 

Allen-a-Dale  was  ne'er  belted  a  knight, 
Though  his  spear  be  as  sharp,  and  his  blade 

be  as  bright; 
Allen-a-Dale  is  no  baron  or  lord, 
Yet  twenty  bold  yeomen  will  draw  at  his  word ; 
And  the  best  of  our  nobles  his  bonnet  will  vail, 
Who  at  Rere-cross  or  Stanmore  meets  Allen- 
a-Dale. 

Allen-a-Dale  to  his  wooing  is  come; 

The  mother  she  asked  of  his  house  and  his 

home: 
*  Though  the  castle  of  Richmond  stands  fair 

on  the  hill, 
My  hall,'  quoth  bold  Allen, c  stands  gallanter 

still ; 


SONG    BOOK.  81 

'T  is  the  blue  vault  of  heaven,  with  its  cres- 
cent so  pale, 

And  with  all  its  bright  spangles,'  said  Allen- 
a-Dale. 

The  father  was  steel  and  the  mother  was  stone ; 
They  lifted  the  latch,  and  they  bade  him  be- 
gone; 
But  loud,  on  the  morrow,  their  wail  and  their 

i        cry ! 

He  had  laughed  on  the  lass  with  his  bonny 

black  eye; 
And  she  fled  to  the  forest  to  hear  a  love  tale, 
And  the  youth  it  was  told  by  was  Allen-a-Dale. 

NOTHING  AT  ALL. 

In  Derry  down  dale  when  I  wanted  a  mata, 
[  went  with  my  daddy  a-courting  of  Kate; 
With   my  nosegay   so    fine  in  my  holyday 

clothes, 
My  hands  in  my  pockets,  a-courting  I  goes. 
The  weather  was  cold,  and  my  bosom  was  hot, 
iMy  heart  in  a  gallop,  my  mare  in  a  trot; 
Now  I  was  so  bashful,  so  loving,  withal, 
IMy  tongue  stuck  to  my  mouth,  and  I  said 
Nothing  at  all. 


"© 


When  I  came  to  the  house,  I  looked  bashful 

and  grum; 
The  knocker  I  held  by  my  finger  and  thumb; 


82  jack  downing's  I 

Rap  went  the  knocker,  Kate  showed  her  chin  i 
She  chuckled  and  buckled,  I  bowed  and  wem 

in. 
Now  I  was  as  bashful  as  bashful  could  be; 
And  Kitty,  poor  soul,  was  as  bashful  as  me; 
So  I  laughed,  and  I  grinned,  and  I  let  my  hat 

fall, 
Giggled,  scratched  my  head,  and  said 
Nothing  at  all. 

If  bashful  was  I,  the  more  bashful  the  maid; 
She  simpered,  and  sighed,  with  her  apron 

strings  played; 
The  old  folks  impatient  to  have  the  thing  done, 
Agreed  that  my  Kitty  and  I  should  be  one. 
So  then  we  young  ones  both  nodded  consent, 
Then  hand  in  hand  to  get  married  we  went, 
When  we  answered  the  parson  in  voices  sc 

small, 
You  scarce  could  have  heard  us  say 
Nothing  at  all. 

Bat  mark  what  a  change  in  the  course  of  s 

week; 
My  Kate  left  off  blushing,  I  boldly  could  speak. 
Could  play  with  my  Kitty,  and  laugh  at  a  jest. 
And  Kitty  could  talk,  too,  as  well  as  the  best 
And  talked  of  past  follies,  we  oft  have  declarec 
To  encourage  young  folks,  who  at  wedlock 

are  scared, 


SONG    BOOK.  So 

That  if  to  their  aid  some  assurance  they  call, 
They  may  kiss,  and  get  married/tind  it  's 
Nothing  at  all. 

!  HAIL  TO  THE  CHIEF. 

lail  to  the  chief  who  in  triumph  advances; 
Honored  and  blest  be  the  evergreen  pine; 
^ong  may  the  tree  in  his  banner  that  glances, 
Flourish,  the  shelter  and  grace  of  our  line. 
Heaven  send  it  happy  dew, 
Earth  led  it  sap  anew, 
jraily  to  bourgeon,  and  broadly  to  grow; 
While  every  highland  glen, 
Sends  our  shout  back  again, 
Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  Dhu,  ho!  ieroe!' 

Durs  is  no  sapling  chance-sown  by  the  fountain , 

Blooming  at  beltane,  in  winter  to  fade; 
v\ hen  the  whirlwind  has  stript  every  leaf  on 
the  mountain, 
The  more  shall  Clan  Alpine  exult  in  her 
shade. 
Moored  in  the  rifted  rock, 
Proof  to  the  tempest's  shock, 
Firmer  he  roots  him,  the  ruder  it  blow; 
Menteith  and  Bredalbane,  then, 
Echo  his  praise  again, 
Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  Dhu,  ho!  ieroe.p 

Proudly  our  pibroch  has  thrilled  in  Glen  Fruin, 
And  Banochar's  groans  to  our  slogan  replied, 


84  jack  downing's 

Glen  Luss  and  Ross  Dhu,  they  are  smoking 
in  rum, 
And  the  best  of  Loch  Lomond  lie  dead  on 
her  side. 
Widow  and  Saxon  maid 
Long  shall  lament  our  raid, 
Think  of  Clan  Alpine  with  fear  and  with  woe: 
Lenox  and  Leven  Glen 
Shake  when  they  hear  again, 
*  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  Dhu,  ho!  ieroe!' 

Row!  vassals,  row!  for  the  pride  of  the  High- 
lands; 
Stretch  to  your  oars  for  the  evergreen  pine! 
O!  that  the  rose-bud  that  graces  yon  islands, 
Were  wreathed  in  a  garland,  around  him 
to  twine; 
O  that  some  seedling  gem, 
Worthy  such  noble  stem, 
Honored  and  blest  in  their  shadow  might  grow ; 
Loud  should  Clan  Alpine,  then, 
Ring  from  her  deepmost  glen, 
1  Roderigh  Vich  Alpine  Dhu,  ho!  ieroe!' 

LOVE'S  LIFE.   - 

Love  was  once  a  little  boy; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
Then  with  him  't  was  sweet  to  toy; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
He  was  then  so  innocent; 
Not  as  now,  on  mischief  bent; 


SONG   LOOK.  85 

Free  he  came,  and  harmlesqjvent; 
Heigho!  heigho! 

Love  is  now  a  little  man; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
And  a  very  saucy  one; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
He  walks  so  stiff,  and  looks  so  smart, 
As  if  he  owned  eacn  maiden's  heart; 
I  wish  he  felt  his  own  keen  dart; 

Heigho!  heigho! 


o  o 


Love  will  soon  be  growing  old; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
Half  his  life  's  already  told; 

Heigho!  heigho! 
When  he  's  dead  and  buried  too, 
What  shall  we  poor  maidens  do? 
I  'm  sure  I  cannot  tell. — Can  you? 

Heigho!  heigho! 

I'DBEA  BUTTERFLY. 

.  'd  be  a  butterfly,  born  in  a  bower, 

Where  roses,  and  lilies,  and  violets  meet, 
.loving  forever  from  flower  to  flower, 
And  kissing  all   buds  that  are  pretty  and 
sweet. 

I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 

M  never  languish  for  riches  or  pow«r; 
I  'd  never  sigh  to  have  slaves  at  my  feet; 


86  jack  downing's  j 

I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  born  in  a  bower, 

Where  roses,  and  lilies,  and  violets  meet. 
I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 

Oh!  could  I  pilfer  the  wand  of  a  fairy, 
I  'd  have  a  pair  of  those  beautiful  wings; 

Their  summer  days'  ramble,  so  sportive  and 
airy; 
They  sleep  in  a  rose  where  the  nightingale 


sings. 


1  'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 


Those  who  have  wealth,  must  be  watchful 
and  wary ; 
Power,  alas!  nought  but  misery  brings; 
I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  sportive  and  airy, 

Rocked  in  a  rose,  when  the  nightingale  sings. 
I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 

What  though  yon  tell  me  each  gay  little  rover, 
Shrinks  from  the  breath  of  the  first  autumu 
day; 
Surely  't  is  better  when  summer  is  over, 
To  die,  when  all  fair  things  are  fading  away. 
I 'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 

Some  in  life's  winter  may  toil  to  discover, 
Means  of  procuring  a  weary  delay ; 

I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  living  a  rover, 

Dying,  when  fair  things  are  fading  away. 
I  'd  be  a  butterfly,  &c. 


SONG    BOOK.  b* 


AULD  LANG  SYNI 

hould  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  never  brought  to  mind? 
hould  auld  acquaintance  be  forgot, 
And  the  d.iys  o'  lang  syne? 
For  auld  lang  syne,  my  dear, 

For  auld  lang  syne; 
We  'II  tak'  a  cup  o'  kindness  yet, 
For  auld  lang  syne. 

rVe  twa  ha'e  run  about  the  braes, 

And  pu'd  the  govvans  fine; 
3ut  we  've  wandered  mony  a  weary  foot, 

Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

For  auld  lang  syne,  &c. 

We  twa  hae  paidlet  i'  the  burn, 

Frae  morning  sun  till  dine; 
But  seas  between  us  braid  ha'e  roared 

Sin'  auld  lang  syne. 

For  auld  lang  syne,  &c. 

And  there  's  a  hand,  my  trusty  feire; 

And  gi'e  's  a  hand  o'  thine: 
\nd  we  '11  tak'  a  right  gude  willie-waught, 

For  auld  lang  syne, 

For  auld  lang  syne,  &c. 

And  surely  you  '11  be  your  pint-stoup, 
And  surely  I  '11  be  mine; 


83  jack  downing's 

And  we  '11  tak'  a  drop  o'  kindness  yet, 
For  auld  Iang  syne. 

For  auld  lang  syne,  &c, 

ABSENCE. 

Days  of  absence,  sad  and  dreary, 

Clothed  in  sorrows  dark  array; 
Days  of  absence,  I  am  weary, 

Her  I  love  is  far  away. 
Hours  of  bliss,  too  quickly  vanished, 

When  will  aught  like  you  return? 
When  the  heavy  sigh  be  banished? 

When  this  bosom  cease  to  mourn? 

Not  till  that  loved  voice  can  greet  me, 

Which  so  oft  has  charmed  mine  ear; 
Not  till  those  sweet  eyes  can  meet  me, 

Telling  that  I  still  am  dear: 
Davs  of  absence  then  will  vanish; 

Joy  will  all  my  pangs  repay ; 
Soon  my  bosom's  idol  banish 

Gloom,  but  felt  when  she  's  away. 

All  my  love  is  turned  to  sadness; 

Absence  pays  the  tender  vow; 
Hopes  that  tilled  the  heart  with  gladness, 

Mem'ry  turns  to  anguish  now: 
Love  may  yet  return  to  meet  me; 

Hope  may  take  the  place  of  pain; 
Antoinette,  with  kisses  greet  me, 

Breathing  love  and  peace  again. 


SONG   BOOK.  89 


THE  BUCKET.* 

How  dear  to  this  heart  are  the  scenes  of  my 
childhood, 
When  fond   recollection   recalls   them  to 
view; 

The  orchard,  the  meadow,  the  deep  tangled 
wild  wood, 
And  every  loved  spot  which  my  infancy 
knew; 
The  wide-spreading  pond,  and  the  mill  that 
stood  by  it, 
The  bridge,  and  the  rock  where  the  cata- 
ract fell, 
The  cot  of  my  father,  the  dairy-house  nigh  it, 
The  old  oaken  bucket  that  hung  in  the  well ; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron  bound  bucket, 
The  moss-covered  bucket,  which  hung  in  the 
well. 

That  moss-covered  vessel  I  hail  as  a  treasure, 
For  often  at  noon  when  returned  from  the 
field, 
1  found  it  the  source  of  an  exquisite  pleasure, 
The  purest  and  sweetest  that  nature  can 
yield; 
How  ardent  I  seized  it,  with  hands  that  were 
glowing, 
And  quick  to  the  white-pebbled  bottom  it 
fell; 


90  jack  downing's 

Then  soon,  with  the  emblem  of  truth  over- 
flowing, 
And  dripping  with  coolness,  it  rose  from  the 
well; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron-bound  bucket, 
The  moss-covered  bucket  arose  from  the  well. 

How  sweet  from  the  green  mossy  brim  to  re- 
ceive it, 
As  poised  on  the  cord,  it  inclined  to  my  lips; 
Not  a  full-blushing  goblet  could  tempt  me  to 
leave  it, 
Though  filled  with  the  nectar  which  Jupi- 
ter sips. 
And  now  far  removed  from  the  loved  situation, 

The  tear  of  regret  will  intrusively  swell, 
As  fancy  revisits  my  father's  plantation, 
And  sighs  for  the  bucket  that  hangs  in  his 
wrell; 
The  old  oaken  bucket,  the  iron  bound  bucket, 
The  moss-covered  bucket  which  hangs  in  his 
well. 

I  HAVE  FRUITS,  I  HAVE  FLOWERS. 

I  have  fruits,  I  have  flowers, 
That  were  gathered  in  the  bowers, 

Amid  the  blooming  hills  so  high,  so  high; 
I  have  fruits,  I  have  flowers, 
The  daughters  of  the  showers, 

Of  the  dews  and  the  rills — will  you  buy?  will 
you  buy? 


SONG    BOOK.  91 

I  've  a  young  nightingale, 
That  by  moonlight  in  the  vale, 

So  fondly  to  a  rose  his  love  did  sigh,  did  sigh; 
I  stole  within  their  bower, 
Caught  the  silly  bird  and  flower, 

I  stole  the  pretty  lovers — will  you  buy?  will 
you  buy? 

DRAW  THE  SWORD,  SCOTLAND. 

Draw  the  sword  Scotland,  Scotland,  Scotland, 
Over  moor  and  mountain  hath  passed  the 
war  sign ; 
The  pibroch  is  pealing,  pealing,  pealing, 
Wha  heeds  not  its  summons,  is  nae  son  o' 
thine! 

The  clans  they  are  gathering,  gathering,  gath- 
ering! 
The  clans  they  arc  gathering,   by  loch  and 
by  lea! 
The  banners  they  are  flying,  flying,  flying, 
The  banners  they  are  flying,  that  lead  to 
victory ! 

Then  draw  the  sword  Scotland,   Scotland, 
Scotland ! 
Charge  as  you  have  charged  in  days  lang 
syne; 
Sound  to  the  onset,  the  onset,  the  onset! 
He  who  now  falters,  is  nae  son  o'  thine! 


92  jack  downing's 

Sheathe  the  sword  Scotland,  Scotland,  Scot- 
land! 
Sheathe  the  sword  Scotland,  for  dimmed  is 
its  shine: 
Thy  foemen  are  flying,  flying,  flying! 
And  wha  kens  nae  mercy,  is  nae  son  o* 
thine! 

The  struggle  is  over,  over,  over! 

The  struggle  is  over,  the  victory  won! 
There  are  tears  for  the  fallen,  the  fallen,  the 
fallen! 

And  glory  to  all  who  their  duty  have  done. 

Then  sheathe  the  sword  Scotland,  Scotland, 
Scotland! 
With  thy  loved  thistle  new  laurels  entwine; 
Time  ne'er  shall  part  them,  part  them,  part 
them! 
But  hand  down  the  garland  to  each  son  o' 
thine! 

A  HIGHLAND  LADDIE  HEARD  OF 

WAR. 

A  Highland  laddie  heard  of  war, 
Which  set  his  heart  in  motion; 
He  heard  the  distant  cannon  roar, 
He  saw  the  smiling  ocean; 
Come  weal,  come  woe, 
To  sea  he  'd  go, 


SONG    BOOK.  &3 

And  left  one  morning  early, 

Loch  Lomond  Ben, 

And  the  willow  glen, 
And  Jean,  that  loved  him  dearly. 

He  wandered  East,  he  wandered  South, 

But  joy,  he  could  not  find  it; 
But  he  found  out  this  wholesome  truth, 
And  had  the  sense  to  mind  it; 
Of  a'  the  earth, 
The  bonny  North 
To  cherish  late  and  early ; 

Loch  Lomond  Ben,  kc. 

OH,  SAY  NOT  WOMAN'S  LOVE  IS 
BOUGHT. 

Oh,  say  not  woman's  love  is  bought 
With  vain  and  empty  treasure; 

Oh,  say  not  woman's  love  is  caught 
By  every  idle  pleasure; 

When  first  her  gentle  bosom  knows 
Love's  flame,  it  wanders  never; 

Deep  in  her  heart  the  passion  glows; 
She  loves,  and  loves  forever. 

Oh,  say  not  woman  's  false  as  fair; 

That  like  the  bee  s'     ranges; 
Still  seeking  flowers  more  sweet  and  rare, 

As  fickle  fancy  changes. 


94  jack  downing's 

Ah,  no!  the  love  that  first  can  warm, 
Will  leave  her  bosom  never;    , 

No  second  passion  e'er  can  charm; 
She  loves,  and  loves  forever! 

THE  CAPTIVE  KNIGHT.  ] 

'T  was  a  trumpets  pealing  sound! 
And  the  knight  looked  down  from  the  Panim's 

tower, 
And  a  Christian  host,  in  its  pride  and  power, 

Through  the  path  beneath  him  wound. 
Cease  awhile,  clarion!  clarion  wild  and  shrill! 
Cease!  let  them  hear  the  captive's  voice — be 
stil!!  be  still! 

I  knew  't  was  a  trumpet's  note! 
And  I  see  my  brothers  glances  gleam, 
And  their  pennons  wave  by  the  mountain 
stream, 
And  their  plumes  to  the  glad  wind  float. 
Cease  awhile,  &c. 

I  am  here  with  my  heavy  chain! 
And  I  look  on  a  torrent  sweeping  by, 
And  an  eagle  rushing  to  the  sky, 

And  a  host  to  its  battle  plain. 
Cease  awhile,  &c. 

Must  1  pine  in  my  fetters  here? 
With  the  wild   wave's   foam,   and   the  free 
bird's  flight, 


SONG    BOOK.  95 

And  the  tall  spears  glancing  on  my  sight, 
And  the  trumpet  in  my  ear? 

Cease  awhile,  &c. 

They  are  gone!  they  have  all  passed  by! 
They  in  whose  wars  I  had  borne  my  part; 
They  that  I  loved  with  a  bi  other's  heart; 

They  have  left  me  here  to  die! 
Sound  again,  clarion!  clarion  pour  thy  blast! 
Sound!  for  thy  captive's  dream  of  hope  is  past! 

PRAY,  GOODY. 

Pray,  Goody,  please  to  moderate  the  rancour 
of  your  tonguo, 
Why  flash  those  sparks  of  fury  from  your 
eyes? 
Remember,  when  the  judgment's  weak,  the 
prejudice  is  strong; 
A  stranger  why  will  you  despise? 
Ply  me,  try  me, 
Prove,  ere  you  deny  me, 
If  you  cast  me  off,  you  blast  me,  never  more 
to  rise! 

Pray,  Goody,  &c. 

THE  MEETING. 

We  met,  and  only  met, 

Ere  doomed  by  fate  to  sever; 

But,  ah!  I  can  forget 
That  meeting  with  thee,  never! 


96  jack  dow_\ing's 

Thy  locks  of  auburn  hair 

On  wanton  zephyrs  straying; 

Thine  eye  of  liquid  blue, 

Where  light  of  soul  was  playing; 

Thy  voice,  whose  dulcet  thrill 

Awaked  such  deep  emotion — 
I  seem  to  hear  it  still, 

Though  far  upon  the  ocean. 
'Twas  these  that  charmed  me  then, 

When  first  and  last  I  met  thee; 
We  may  not  meet  again, 

But  ne'er  can  1  forget  thee. 

?T  was  evening  when  we  met, 

By  Arno's  rippling  billow; 
(In  dreams  I  see  thee  yet, 

Whene'er'J  press  my  pillow;) 
It  was  a  lovely  night! 

The  balmy  breeze  was  sighing, 
And  heaven's  sweetest  light 

On  town  and  stream  was  lvin^. 

When  in  some  thicket's  shade, 

His  vows  the  lover  's  telling, 
Like  breast  of  list'ning  maid. 

The  playful  waves  were  swelling. 
We  met,  and  only  met, 

Ere  doomed  by  fate  to  sever; 
But,  ah!  I  can  forget 

That  meeting  with  thee,  never. 


SONG  BOOK.  97 

OH,  I  NE'ER  SHALL  FORGET. 

Oh,  I  ne'er  shall  forget  the  sad  moment  we 
parted ; 
'T  was  a  moment  o'erflowing  with  pleas- 
ure and  pain; 
When  you  kissed  off  the  tears  from  my  eye- 
lids that  started, 
And  whispered  the  hope  of  our  meeting 

again. 
In  vain  I  tried  my  pain  to  hide, 

When  from  my  arms  you  burst  away, 
At  honor's  call,  far,  far  from  all 
Whose  smiles  of  love  oft  cheer  your  way. 

How  often   I  've   watched  the  pale  moon- 
beams, when  stealing 
Along  the  dark  wave  of  a  far  distant  sea; 
Oh,  it  wakened  my  heart  with  the  tenderest 
feeling, 
To  think  that  those  moonbeams  were  smil- 
ing on  thee. 
And  then  my  heart  would  anxious  start, 

As  fancy  drew  the  swelling  sail, 
Which  bore  me  to  sweet  love  and  you, 
Within  your  native  woodland  vale. 

I  HAVE  LOVED  THEE. 

I  have  loved  thee,  dearly  loved  thee, 
Through  an  age  of  worldly  woe; 


98  jack  downing's 

How  ungrateful  I  have  proved!  thee, 

Let  my  mournful  exile  shew. 
Ten  long  years  of  anxious  sorrow, 

Hour  by  hour  I  counted  o'er, 
Looking  forward  till  to-morrow, 

Every  day  I  loved  thee  more. 

Power  nor  splendor  could  not  charm  me; 

I  no  joy  in  wealth  could  see; 
Nor  could  threats  or  fears  alarm  me, 

Save  the  fear  of  losing  thee. 
When  the  storms  of  fortune  pressed  thee, 

I  have  wept  to  see  thee  weep; 
When  relentless  cares  distressed  thee, 

I  have  lulled  those  cares  to  sleep. 

SONG  OF  THE  PORTUGUESE  PEAS- 
ANT BOY, 

The  beacon  is  blazing  bright,  father, 

And  loud  is  the  cannon's  shock; 
And  see  what  a  swarthy  light,  father, 

Strains  the  peak  of  Alverca's  rock. 
'T  was  the  tramp  of  an  English  courier, 

Which  clattered  so  quick  on  the  moor, 
For  I  saw  the  soldier's  sabre 

Flash  bright,  as  he  dashed  by  the  door. 

So  take  down  the  good  old  brand ,  father — 
But  lend  me  my  brother's  dirk; 

'Tis  light  in  a  stripling's  hand,  father, 
And  fit  for  a  stripling's  work. 


SONG    BOOK.  99 

Then  away  to  the  midnight  battle, 
But  soft  o'er  the  threshold  tread, 

Lest  my  mother  should  hear  your  foot-fall, 
And  scream  as  we  leave  the  shed. 

Still  brighter  the  beacon's  blaze,  father, 

And  stronger  the  cannon's  shock; 
And  smoke  has  hid  the  rays,  father, 

Which  flashed  round  Alverca's  rock. 
One  kiss  on  the  cheek  of  my  mother — 

One  kiss  will  not  break  her  sleep, — 
Then  away  for  the  midnight  battle, 

Then  away  for  Alverca's  steep. 

THERE'S  SOMEWHAT  ON  MY  BREAST. 

There  's  somewhat  on  my  breast,  father, 

There  's  somewhat  on  my  breast; 
The  livelong  day  I  sigh,  father, 

At  night  I  cannot  rest; 
I  cannot  take  my  rest,  father, 

Though  I  would  fain  do  so; 
A  weary  weight  oppresseth  me, 

This  weary  weight  of  wo! 

'Tis  not  the  lack  of  gold,  father, 

Nor  lack  of  worldly  gear; 
My  lands  are  broad,  and  fair  to  see, 

My  friends  are  kind  and  dear; 
My  kin  are  leal  and  true,  father, 

They  mourn  to  see  my  grief; 


100  jack  downing's 

But,  oh!  't  is  not  a  kindred's  hand, 
Can  give  my  heart  relief! 

'T  is  not  that  Janet's  false,  father, 

'T  is  not  that  she  's  unkind; 
Though  busy  flatterers  swarm  around, 

I  know  her  constant  mind; 
It  is  not  her  coldness,  father, 

That  chills  my  laboring  breast; 
It 's  that  confounded  cucumber, 

I  've  ate  and  can't  digest. 

THE  CARRIER  PIGEON. 

Come  hither,  thou  beautiful  rover, 

Thou  wanderer  of  earth  and  of  air, 
Who  nearest  the  sighs  of  a  lover, 

And  bringest  him  news  of  his  fair. 
Bend  hither  thy  light  waving  pinion, 

And  show  me  the  gloss  of  thy  neck; 
O,  perch  on  my  hand,  dearest  minion, 

And  turn  up  thy  bright  eye,  and  peck. 

Here  is  bread  of  the  whitest  and  sweetest, 

And  there  is  a  sip  of  red  wine; 
Though  thy  wing  is  the  lightest  and  fleetest, 

'Twill  be  fleeter  when  nerved  by  the  vine. 
I  have  written  on  rose  scented  paper 

With  thy  wing-quill,  a  soft  billetdoux; 
I  have  melted  the  wax  in  love's  taper; 

'T  is  the  color  of  true  hearts,  sky  blue. 


SONG    BOOK.  101 

I  have  fastened  it  under  thy  pinion, 

With  a  blue  ribbon  round  thy  soft  neck; 
So  go  from  me,  beautiful  minion, 

While  the  pure  ether  shows  not  a  speck. 
Like  a  cloud  in  the  dim  distance  fleeting, 

Like  an  arrow,  he  hurries  away; 
And  farther,  and  farther  retreating, 

He  is  lost  in  the  clear  blue  of  day. 

'  HURRAH!  FOR  THE  BONNETS  OF 

BLUE! 

Here  's  a  health  to  that 's  awa, 

Here  's  a  health  to  them  that  's  awa; 

And  wha  winna  wish  gude  luck  to  our  cause, 

May  never  gude  luck  be  their  fa. 

It 's  gude  to  be  merry  and  wise; 

It 's  gude  to  be  honest  and  true; 

It  '8  gude  to  support  Caledonia's  cause, 

And  bide  by  the  Bonnets  of  Blue. 

Hurrah!  for  the  Bonnets  of  Blue! 

Hurrah!  for  the  Bonnets  of  Blue! 

It  's  gude  to  support  Caledonia's  cause, 

And  bide  by  the  Bonnets  of  Blue. 

Here  's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa', 
Here  's  a  health  to  them  that 's  awa', 
Here  's  a  health  to  Donald,  the  chief  o'  the 
Clan, 
Altho'  that  his  band  be  sma\ 
Here  's  freedom  to  him  that  wad  read, 
Here  's  freedom  to  him  that  wad  write; 


102  jack  downing's 

There  's  none  ever  feared  that  the  truth  should 

be  he  aid, 
But  thev  whom  the  truth  wad  indict. 
Hurrah!  for  the  Bonnets  of  Blue,  &c. 

A  PARODY. 

These  girls  are  all  a  fleeting  show, 

For  man's  illusion  given; 
Their  smiles  of  joy,  their  tears  of  wo, 
Deceitful  shine,  deceitful  flow — 

There  's  not  one  true  in  seven! 

And  false  the  flash  of  beauty's  eye, 

As  fading  hues  of  even; 
And  love,  and  laughter,  all  's  a  lie, 
And  hopes  awakened  but  to  die — 

There  's  not  one  true  in  seven! 

Poor  mushrooms  of  a  stormy  day! 

Yet  bloom  and  be  forgiven; 
For  life  's  at  best  a  dream — awav! 
Dull,  drowsy  thought!— I  '11  join  the  gay, 

And  romp  with  all  the  seven. 

ANSWER. 

Oh,  men!  you  're  all  a  fleeting  show, 

For  our  amusement  given  ; 
Your  smiles  and  tears  are  false  we  know, 
Though  at  our  will  they  shine  and  flow; 

We  trust  not  one  in  seven. 


% 


SONG    BOOK.  103 

The  seeming  worth  in  which  you  plume, 

Fades,  like  the  hues  of  even; 
The  mask  of  kindness  you  assume, 
And  faintly  hide  your  real  gloom — 

There  's  not  one  true  in  seven. 

Poor  wanderers  through  life's  changing  day, 

From  fair  to  fair  vou  're  driven; 
We  light  your  darkness  with  a  ray — 
A  ray  of  hope — then  kindly  say — 
Go,  wretches!  you  're  forgiven. 


BUDS  AND  FLOWERS. 

I  '11  pull  a  buncii  of  buds  and  flowers, 

And  tie  a  ribbon  round  them, 
If  you  '11  but  think  in  your  lonely  hours, 

Of  the  sweet  little  girl  that  bound  them. 


ta' 


I  '11  cull  the  earliest  that  put  forth, 
And  those  that  last  the  longest; 

And  the  bud  that  boasts  the  fairest  birth, 
Shall  cling  to  the  stem  the  strongest. 

I  've  run  about  the  garden  walks, 
And  searched  among  the  dew,  sir; 

These  fragrant  (lowers,  these  tender  stalks, 
I  've  plucked  them  all  for  you,  sir. 

So  here  's  your  bunch  of  buds  and  flowers, 
And  here  's  the  ribbon  round  them; 


104  JACK  downing's 

And  here,  to  cheer  your  saddened  hoars, 
Is  the  sweet  little  girl  that  bound  them. 

THE  INGLE  SIDE. 

It  ?s  rare  to  see  the  morning  bleeze 

Like  a  bonfire  frae  the  sea; 
It 's  fair  to  see  the  burnie  kiss 

The  lip  o'  the  flowery  lea; 
And  fine  it  is  on  green  hill  side 

Where  hums  the  bonnv  bee; 
But  rarer,  fairer,  finer  far, 

Is  the  Ingle  side  to  me. 

Glens  mav  be  gilt  wi'  go  wans  rare; 

The  birds  mav  fill  the  tree; 
And  haughs  hae  a'  the  scented  ware, 

That  simmer  growth  can  gie; 
But  the  canty  hearth  where  cronies  meet, 

And  the  darling  o'  our  e'e, 
That  makes  to  us  a  warl  complete, 

O,  the  Ingle  side  's  for  me. 

BRUCE'S  ADDRESS. 

Scots,  wha  hae  wi'  Wallace  bled! 
Scots,  wham  Bruce  has  aft  en  led! 
Welcome  to  your  gory  bed, 

Or  to  victory! 
Now 's  the  dav,  and  now  's  the  hour! 
See  the  front  of  battle  lour! 
See  approach  proud  Edward's  power! 

Chains  and  slavery! 


SONG    BOOK.  105 

Wha  will  be  a  traitor  knave? 
Wha  sae  base  as  be  a  slave? 
Wha  would  fill  a  coward's  grave? 

Traitor!  turn  and  flee. 
Wha  for  Scotland's  king  and  law 
Freedom's  sword  will  strongly  draw; 
Freemen  stand,  or  freemen  fa!' 

Let  them  on  wi'  me! 

By  oppression's  woes  and  pains! 
By  your  sons  in  servile  chains! 
We  will  drain  our  dearest  veins, 

But  they  shall  be  free! 
Lay  the  proud  usurpers  low! 
Tyrant's  fall  in  every  foe! 
Liberty  's  in  every  blow! 

Let  us  do,  or  die! 

MARCH  TO  THE  BATTLE  FIELD. 

March  to  the  battle  field, 

The  foe  is  now  before  us, 
Each  heart  is  freedom's  shield, 

v  And  heaven  is  smiling  o'er  us. 
The  woes  and  pains,  the  galling  chains, 

Which  kept  our  spirits  under, 
In  proud  disdain  we  've  broke  again, 
And  tore  each  link  asunder. 
March,  &c. 

Who,  for  his  country  brave, 
Would  fly  from  the  invader? 


106  jack  downing's 

Who,  his  base  life  to  save, 

Would  traitor-like  degrade  her? 
March,  &c. 

Our  hallowed  cause,  our  home  and  laws, 
'Gainst  tyrant  power  sustaining, 

We  '11  gain  a  crown  of  bright  renown, 
Or  die,  our  rights  maintaining. 
March,  &c. 

MY  LUVE  'S  LIKE  A  RED,  RED  ROSE. 

O,  my  luve  's  like  a  red,  red  rose, 
That  's  newly  sprung  in  June; 

O,  my  luve  's  like  the  melodie 
That 's  sweetly  played  in  tune. 

As  fair  art  thou,  my  bonnie  lass, 

So  deep  in  luve  am  I; 
And  I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry. 

Till  a'  the  seas  gang  dry,  my  dear, 
And  the  rocks  melt  wi'  the  sun; 

And  I  will  luve  thee  still,  my  dear, 
While  the  sands  o'  life  shall  run. 

And  fare-thee-weel,  my  only  luve! 

And  fare-thee-weel  awhile! 
And  I  will  come  again,  my  luve, 

Though  't  were  ten  thousand  mile. 


SONG    BOOK.  107 


BURIAL  OF  SIR  JOHN  MOORE. 

ot  a  drum  was  heard,  nor  a  funeral  note, 
Ad  his  corse  to  the  rampart  we  hurried; 
ot  a  soldier  discharged  his  farewell  shot, 
O'er  the  grave 'where  our  hero  was  buried. 
Ve  buried  him  darkly  at  dead  of  night, 
The  sod  with  our  bayonets  turning, 
y  the  straggling  moonbeams'  misty  light, 
And  the  lantern  dimly  burning. 

\o  useless  cofiin  enclosed  his  breast, 

Nor  in  sheet,  nor  in  shroud  we  bound  him; 
kit  he  lay  like  a  warrior  taking  his  rest, 

With  his  martial  cloak  around  him. 
ew  and  short  were  the  prayers  we  said, 

And  we  spoke  not  a  word  of  sorrow; 
>ut  wc  steadfastly  gazed  on  the  face  of  the 
dead, 

And  bitterly  thought  of  the  morrow. 

Ve  thought,  as  we  hollowed  his  narrow  bed, 

And  smoothed  down  his  lonely  pillow, 
'hat  the  foe  and  the  stranger  would   tread 
o'er  his  head, 

And  we  far  away  on  the  billow. 
.ightly  they  '11  talk  of  the  spirit  that 's  gone, 

And  o'er  the  cold  ashes  upbraid  him; 
>ut  nothing  he  '11  reck  if  they  let  him  sleep  on, 

In  a  grave  where  a  Britain  has  laid  him. 


108  jack  downing's 

But  half  of  our  heavy  task  was  done, 

When  the  clock  tolled  the  hour  for  retiring; 
And  we  heard  the  distant  and  random  gun, 

That  the  foe  was  sullenly  firing. 
Slowly  and  sadly  we  laid  him  down, 

From  the  field  of  his  fame  fresh  and  gory; 
We  carved  not  a  line,  we  raised  not  a  stone, 

But  we  left  him  alone  in  his  glory. 

CANZONET.  1 

When  shall  we  three  meet  again? 
When  shall  we  three  meet  again? 
Oft  shall  glowing  hope  retire, 
Oft  shall  wearied  love  expire, 
Oft  shall  death  and  sorrow  reign, 
Ere  we  three  shall  meet  again. 

Though  in  distant  lands  we  sigh, 
Parched  beneath  the  hostile  sky; 
Though  the  deep  between  us  rolls, 
Friendship  shall  unite  our  souls; 
Still  in  Fancy's  wide  domain, 
Oft  shall  we  three  meet  again. 

When  around  this  youthful  pine 
Moss  shall  creep,  and  ivy  twine; 
When  these  burnished  locks  are  grey, 
Thinned  by  many  a  toil-spent  day, 
May  this  long  loved  bower  remain, 
Here  may  we  three  meet  again. 


SONG    BOOK.  109 

When  the  dreams  of  life  are  fled; 
When  its  wasted  lamp  is  dead; 
When  in  cold  oblivion's  shade 
Beauty,  wealth,  and  power  are  laid, 
Where  immortal  spirits  reign, 
There  shall  we  three  meet  again! 

WHEN  SHALL  WE  MEET  AGAINr 

When  shall  we  meet  again? 

Meet  ne'er  to  sever? 
When  will  peace  wreath  her  chain 

Round  us  forever? 
Our  hearts  will  ne'er  repose, 
Safe  from  each  blast  that  blows, 
In  this  dark  vale  of  woes — 

Never — no,  never! 

When  shall  love  freely  flow. 

Pure  as  life's  river? 
When  shall  sweet  friendship  glow, 

Changeless  forever? 
Where  joys  celestial  thrill, 
Where  bliss  each  heart  shall  fill, 
And  fears  of  parting  chill — 

Never — no,  never! 

Soon  shall  we  meet  again, 

Meet  ne'er  to  sever; 
Soon  will  peace  wreathe  her  chain 

Round  us  forever; 


110  JACK   DOWNING' S 

Our  hearts  will  then  repose, 
Secure  from  worldly  woes; 
Our  songs  of  praise  shall  close — 
Never — no,  never! 

LET  US  HASTE  TO  KELVIN  GROVE. 

Let  us  haste  to  Kelvin  Grove,  bonnie  lassie,  O; 
Through  its  mazes  let  us  rove,  bonnie  lassie,  O ; 

Where  the  rose  in  all  its  pride, 

Paints  the  hollow  dingle  side; 
Where  the  midnight  fairies  glide,  bonnie  las- 
sie, O. 

We  will  wander  by  the  mill,  bonnie  lassie,  O; 
To  the  cove  beside  the  rill,  bonnie  lassie,  O 

Where  the  glens  resound  the  call 

Of  the  lofty  waterfall, 
Through  the  mountain's  rocky  hall,  bonnie 
lassie,  O. 

Then  we  Ml  up  to  yonder  glade,  bonnie  las- 
sie, O, 
Where  so  oft  beneath  its  shade,  bonnie  las- 
sie, O, 
With  the  songsters  in  the  grove, 
We  have  told  our  tale  of  love, 
And  have  sportive  garlands  wove,  bonnie  las- 
sie, O. 

But  I  soon  must  bid  adieu,  bonnie  lassie,  O, 
To  the  fairy  scene  and  you,  bonnie  lassie,  O; 


SONG   BOOK.  Ill 

To  the  streamlet  winding  clear, 
To  the  fragrant  scented  brier, 
Even  to  thee,  of  all  most  dear,  bonnie  lassie,  O; 

For  the  frowns  of  fortune  lour ,  bonnie  lassie,  O, 
On  thy  lover,  at  this  hour,  bonnie  lassie,  O; 
Ere  the  golden  orb  of  day, 
Wakes  the  warbler  from  the  spray, 
From  this  land  I  must  away,  bonnie  lassie,  O. 

And  when  on  a  distant  shore,  bonnie  lassie,  O, 
Should  I  fall  'midst  battle's  roar,  bonnie  las- 
sie, O, 

Wilt  thou,  Ellen,  when  you  hear, 

Of  thy  lover  on  his  bier, 
To  his  memory  shed  a  tear,  bonnie  lassie,  O? 

MEETING  OF  THE  WATERS. 

There  is  not  in  the  wide  world  a  valley  so 
sweet, 

As  that  vale  in  whose  bosom  the  bright  wa- 
ters meet; 

Oh!  the  last  rays  of  feeling  and  life  must  de- 
part, 

Ere  the  bloom  of  that  valley  shall  fade  from 
my  heart. 

Yet  it  was  not  that  nature  had  shed  o'er  the 

scene 
Her  purest  of  crystal,  and  brightest  of  green; 


112  jack  doyvning's 


T  was  not  the  soft  image  of  streamlet  or  hill; 
Oh,  no!  it  was  something  more  exquisite  still. 


'Twas  that  friends,  the  beloved  of  my  bosom 

were  near, 
Who  made  each  dear  scene  of  enchantment 

more  dear, 
And  who  felt  how  the  blest  charms  of  nature 

improve, 
When  we  see  them  reflected  from  looks  that 

we  love. 

Sweet  vale  of  Avoca!  how  calm  could  I  rest 
In  thy  bosom  of  shade,  with  the  friends  I  love 

best; 
Where  the  storms  which  we  feel  in  this  cold 

world  should  cease, 
And  our  hearts,  like  ihy  waters,  be  mingled 

in  peace! 

THE  CAMPBELLS  ARE  COJVIIN. 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  O  ho,  O  ho! 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  O  ho,  O  ho! 
The  Campbells  arecomin to  bonnieLochleven, 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  O  ho,  O  ho! 

Upon  the  Lemons  I  lay,  I  lay, 

Upon  the  Lemons  I  lay,  1  lay, 
I  looked  down  to  bonnie  Lochlevcn, 

And  heard  the  bonnie  pibrochs  play. 
The  Campbells,  &c. 


SONG    BOOK.  113 

Great  Argyle,  he  goes  before; 
He  makes  his  cannons  loudly  roar; 
Wi'  sound  of  trumpet,  pipe,  and  drum, 
The  Campbells  are  comin,  O  ho,  O  ho! 
The  Campbells,  &c. 

The  Campbells,  they  are  a'  in  arms, 
Their  loyal  faith  and  truth  to  show; 

Wi'  banners  rattling  in  the  wind, 

The  Campbells  are  comin,  O  ho,  O  ho! 
The  Campbells,  &c. 

BONNIE  DOON. 

^e  banks  and  braes  o'  bonnie  Doon, 

How  can  ye  bloom  sae  fresh  and  fair? 
Jow  can  ye  chaunt,  ye  little  birds, 

And  I  sae  weary,  fu'  o'  care? 
Thou  'It  break  my  heart,  thou  warbling  bird, 

That  wanton'st  through  the  flowery  thorn; 
Thou  mind'st  me  of  departed  joys, 

Departed,  never  to  return. 

)ft  have  I  roved  by  bonnie  Doon, 
To  see  the  rose  and  woodbine  twine; 

rid  ilka  bird  sang  o'  its  love, 
And  fondly  sae  did  I  o'  mine: 
WV  lightsome  heart  I  pu'd  a  rose, 
Fu'  sweet  upon  its  thorny  tree ; 
ind  my  fause  lover  staw  my  rose, 
But,  ah!  he  left  the  thorn  wi'  me. 

7 


114  jack  downing's 


THE  BRAES  OF  BALQUHITHER. 

Let  us  go,  lassie,  go 

To  the  braes  of  Balquhither, 
Where  the  blae-berries  grow 

'Mang  bonnie  Highland  heather; 
Where  the  deer  and  the  rae, 

Lightly  bounding  together, 
Sport  the  lang  summer  day 

On  the  braes  of  Balquhither. 

I  will  twine  thee  a  bower 

By  the  clear  siller  fountain* 
And  I  '11  cover  it  o'er 

Wi'  the  flowers  o'  the  mountain; 
I  will  range  through  the  wilds, 

And  the  deep  glens  sae  dreary, 
And  return  wi'  their  spoils 

To  the  bower  o'  my  deary. 

When  the  rude  wintry  win* 

Idly  raves  round  our  dwelling, 
And  the  roar  of  the  linn 

On  the  night  breeze  is  swelling, 
So  merrily  we  '11  sing 

As  the  storm  rattles  o'er  us, 
Till  the  dear  sheeling  ring 

Wi'  the  light  lilting  chorus. 

Now  the  summer  is  in  prime 
Wi*  the  flowers  richly  blooming, 


SONG    BOOK.  115 

And  the  wild  mountain  thyme, 
A*  the  moorland  perfuming; 

To  our  dear  native  scenes, 
Let  us  journey  together, 

Where  glad  innocence  reigns, 
'Mang  the  braes  of  Balquhither. 

PLATO'S  ADVICE. 

Says  Plato,  Why  should  man  be  vain, 

Since  bounteous  heaven  has  made  him  great? 
Why  look  with  insolent  disdain, 

On  those  undecked  with  power  or  state? 
Can  splendid  robes,  or  beds  of  down, 

Or  costly  gems  that  deck  the  fair,  j 
Can  all  the  glories  of  a  crown 

Give  health,  or  ease  the  brow  of  care? 

The  sceptred  king,  the  burdened  slave, 

The  humble  and  the  haughty,  die; 
The  rich,  the  poor,  the  base,  the  brave, 

In  dust,  without  distinction,  lie. 
Go  search  the  tombs  where  monarchs  rest, 

Who  once  the  proudest  titles  bore; 
The  wealth,  the  glory  they  possessed, 

And  all  their  honors,  are  no  more. 

So  glides  the  meteor  through  the  sky, 
And  spreads  along  a  gilded  train; 

But  when  its  short-lived  beauties  die, 
Dissolves  to  common  air  again. 


116 


JACK    DOWNING  S 


So  't  is  with  us,  my  jovial  souls; 

Let  friendship  reign  while  here  we  stay; 
Let 's  crown  our  joys  with  flowing  bowls; 

When  Jove  commands,  we  must  obev. 

WHA  'LL  BE  KING  BUT  CHARLIE. 

There  5s  news  from  Moidart  cam'  yestreen, 

Will  soon  gar  mony  farlie, 
Tor  ships  of  war  hae  just  come  in, 
And  landed  Royal  Charlie; 

Come  through  the  heather, 

Around  him  gither, 
Ye  're  a'  the  welcomer  early, 

Come  round  him  cling, 

Wi'  a5  your  kin, 
For  wha  '11  be  king  but  Charlie? 

Come  through  the  heather, 

Around  him  gither, 
Come  Ronald,  come  Donald, 

Come  a'  thegither, 
And  crown  your  rightful,  lawful  king, 
For  wha  '11  be  king  but  Charlie? 

The  highland  clans  wi'  sword  in  hand, 

Frae  John  o'  Groats  to  Airly, 
Hae  to  a  man  declared  to  stand 

Or  fa'  wi'  Royal  Charlie. 

Come  through  the  heather,  &c. 

There  's  ne'er  a  lass  in  a'  the  land, 
But  vows  baith  late  an  eraly, 


SONG    BOOK.  1  11 

o  man  she  'll  ne'er  gie  heart  or  hand, 
Wha  wadna  fight  for  Charlie. 

Come  through  the  heather,  Sec. 

he  lowlands  a'  baith  great  and  stria' , 
Wi'  mony  a  lord  an5  laird,  hae 
eclared  for  Scotia's  king  an'  law, 
An'  speir  ye  wha  but  Charlie. 

Come  through  the  heather,  &c. 

hen  here  's  a  health  to  Charlie's  cause, 
An'  be  't  complete  an'  early; 
is  very  name  our  heart's  blood  warms 
To  arm  for  Royal  Charlie. 

Come  through  the  heather,  &c. 

CROWS  IN  A  CORN-FIELD. 

See  yonder  corn-field, 

Where  waves  the  rip'ning  grain, 
The  feathered  race  alluring, 

Who  flock  the  prize  to  gain. 

Now  careless  hopping,  flying, 
A  young  crow  light  and  gay, 

So  careless,  light  and  gay  he  hops, 
S©  careless,  light  and  gay. 

While  cautious,  peeping,  prying, 
Two  old  crows,  sage  and  gray, 

A  man  and  gun  espying, 
With  timely  warning  say — 


118  jack  downing's 

4  Do  n't  go  there!' 

<  Why  not?' 
«  You  '11  be  shot!' 

'I  do  n  *t  care! 

Oh!  oh!  oh!' 
s  We  told  you  so!' 

Caw!  caw!  says  the  scout;  look  out! 

See,  he  's  loading  his  gun  again; 
We  smell  powder  my  lad;  we  're  not  to  be 
had; 
'T  is  all  but  labor  in  vain. 
All,  all  in  vain  you  try  old  birds  to  catch  with 

chaff; 
We  're  out  of  your  shot,  you  stupid  old  sot, 
And  at  you  and  your  gun  we  laugh;  ha!  ha! 
Caw!  caw!  caw! 

COMIN'  THROUGH  THE  EYE. 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 

Comin'  through  the  rye, 
Gin  a  body  kiss  a  body, 

Need  a  body  cry? 
Ilka  body  has  a  body, 

Ne'er  a  ane  hae  I; 
But  a'  the  lads  they  lo'e  me,. 

And  what  the  waur  am  I? 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 
Comin'  frae  the  well, 


SONG  BOOK,  119 

Gin  a  body  kiss  a  body, 

Need  a  body  tell? 
Ilka  body  has  a  body,  &c. 

Gin  a  body  meet  a  body 

Comin'  frae  the  town, 
Gin  a  body  kiss  a  body, 

Need  a  body  frown? 
Ilka  Jenny  has  her  Jockey,  &c. 

O  NEVER  FALL  IN  LOVE. 

Fall  not  in  love,  dear  girls,  beware, 

Oh  never  fall  in  love! 
Better  lead  apes  in — you  know  where, 

Than  ever  fall  in  love. 

For  men,  their  ends  to  gain, 

Are  cruel  when  most  kind; 
Their  tears  are  false  as  rain, 

There  vows  are  only  wind; 
And  if  you  say  them  no, 

They  swear  their  hearts  are  broke; 
Yet  when  half  dead  with  wo, 

How  nice  and  plump  they  look. 
Fall  not  in  love,  &c. 

For  if  a  rake  you  wed, 

For  better  and  for  worse, 
When  honey-moons  are  fled, 

Qh!  how  he  '11  squeeze  your  purse: 


120  jack  downing's 

And  if  you  scold  at  night — 

Quite  easy,  by  the  by — 
Your  husband,  grown  polite, 

Yawns  most  melodiously. 
Fall  not  in  love,  &c. 

I  SHOULD  VERY  MUCH  LIKE  TO 

KNOW. 

As  I  walked  last  night, 

In  the  dim  twilight, 

Some  one  whispered  soft  and  low, 

Whispered  soft  and  low; 

*  What  pretty  girl  is  she? 

I  wish  she  would  fancy  me.' 

Now  whoever  this  could  be, 

I  should  very  much  like  to  know, 

I  should  very  much  like  to  know, 

Whoever  it  was  said  so, 

I  should  very  much  like  to  know, 

I  should  very  much  like  to  know. 

Last  Valentine's  day, 

Came  a  letter  so  gay, 

With  hearts  above,  around  and  below. 

With  hearts  above  and  below — 

*  Oh!  I  love  you,  dearest  maid, 
But  to  tell  you  I  'm  afraid.5 

I  should  very,  &c. 

A  gipsy  in  the  wood 

Said  she  'd  tell  me  something  good. 


SONG   BOOK.  121 

For  his  name  began  with  an  O, 
For  his  name  began  with  an  O, 
And  he  'd  surely  marry  me, 
For  it  was  his  destiny. 
Now  whoever  this  can  be, 
I  should  very,  &c. 

THE  HUNTERS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

Ye  gentlemen  and  ladies  fair, 

Who  grace  this  famous  city, 
Just  listen,  if  you  've  time  to  spare, 

While  I  rehearse  a  ditty; 
And  for  the  opportunity, 

Conceive  yourselves  quite  lucky, 
For  't  is  not  often  that  you  see 

A  hunter  from  Kentucky: 
Oh!  Kentucky, 

The  hunters  of  Kentucky. 

We  are  a  hardy,  free  born  race; 

Each  man  to  fear  a  stranger; 
Whate'er  the  game  we  join  in  chase, 

Despising  toil  and  danger: 
And  if  a  daring  foe  annoys, 

Whate'er  his  strength  or  force  is, 
We  '11  show  him  that  Kentucky  boys 

Are  alligator-horses: 

'  Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

I  s'pose  you  've  read  it  in  the  prints, 
How  Packenham  attempted 


122  jack  downing' s 

To  make  old  Hickory,  Jackson,  wince, 
But  soon  his  schemes  repented; 

For  we  with  rifles  ready  cocked, 
Thought  such  occasion  lucky, 

And  soon  around  the  General  flocked 
The  hunters  of  Kentucky: 

Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

1  s'pose  you  've  heard  how  New-Orleans 

Is  famed  for  wealth  and  beauty; 
There  's  gals  of  every  hue,  it  seems, 

From  snowy  white  to  sooty. 
So,  Packenham  he  made  his  brags, 

If  he  in  fight  was  lucky, 
He  'd  have  their  gals  and  cotton-bags, 

In  spite  of  old  Kentucky: 

Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

But  Jackson,  he  was  wide  awake, 

And  was  n't  scared  at  trifles, 
For  well  he  knew  what  aim  we  tako 

With  our  Kentucky  rifles; 
So  he  led  us  down  to  Cypress  Swamp, 

The  ground  was  low  and  mucky ; 
There  stood  John  Bull  in  martial  pomp — 

But  here  was  Old  Kentucky; 
Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

We  raised  a  bank  to  hide  our  breasts; 

Not  that  we  thought  of  dying; 
But  then  we  always  like  to  rest, 

Unless  the  game  is  flying: 


SONG    BOOK.  123 

Behind  it  stood  our  little  force — 
None  wished  it  to  be  greater, 

For  every  man  was  half  a  horse, 
And  half  an  alligator: 

Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

They  did  n't  let  our  patience  tire, 

Before  they  showed  their  faces; 
We  did  n't  choose  to  waste  our  fire, 

But  snugly  kept  our  places; 
And  when  so  near  we  saw  them  wink, 

We  thought  it  time  to  stop  'em; 
It  would  have  done  you  good,  I  think, 

To  see  Kentuckians  drop  'em: 
Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

They  found,  at  last,  't  was  vain  to  fight, 

When  lead  was  all  their  booty, 
And  so  they  wisely  took  to  flight, 

And  left  us  all  the  beauty. 
And  now,  if  danger  e'er  annoys, 

Remember  what  our  trade  is; 
Just  send  for  us  Kentucky  boys, 

And  we  '11  protect  you,  ladies: 
Oh!  Kentucky,  &c. 

SWEET  KITTY  CLOVER. 

Oh,  sweet  Kitty  Clover,  she  bothers  me  so, 

oh,  oh,  oh,  oh!  [oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

Oh,  sweet  Kitty  Clover,  she  bothers  me  so, 


124  jack  downing's 

Her  cheeks  are  round,  and  red,  and  fat, 
Like  a  pulpit  cushion — and  redder  than  that. 
Oh,  sweet  Kitty  Clover,  she  bothers  me  so, 
oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

Sweet  Kitty  in  person  is  rather  low!  oh,  oh, 
oh,  oh!  [oh,  oh! 

Where  Kitty  resides,  I  'm  sure  to  go,  oh,  oh, 

One  moonlight  night,  when — oh!  what  bliss! 

Through  a  hole  in  the  window  she  gave  me  a 
kiss.  [oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

Oh,  sweet  Kitty  Clover,  she  bothers  me  so. 

If  Kitty  to  kirk  with  me  would  go,  oh,  oh, 
oh,  oh!  [oh,  oh! 

If  Kitty  to  kirk  with  me  would  go,  oh,  oh, 
I  think  I  would  never  be  bothered  again, 
If  after  the  parson  she  'd  say — Amen! 
Then  Kitty  would  ne'er  again  bother  me  so, 
oh,  oh,  oh,  oh! 

GEOFFREY'S  COURTSHIP.  \ 

One  morn,  whilst  I  was  brewing, 
My  thoughts  each  thought  pursuing, 

First  malt  and  hops,  next  Molly  Popps, 
Thinks  I  I  '11  go  a  wooing. 

Oh,  yes,  I  will;  indeed,  I  will;  tol  de  rol,  &c. 

Chance  in  my  brew-house  brought  her — 
s  Dame  Popps,  I  love  your  daughter, 


SONG    BOOK.  125 

And  feel  inclined  to  tell  my  mind, 

And  cut  my  longing  shorter. 
Oh,  yes,  I  do;  indeed,  I  do;  tol  de  rol,'  &c. 

My  Molly,  dear,  now  came  in, 
Whilst  love  my  heart  inflaming; 

Her  mother  said,  'the  lad  's  afraid 
His  passion  you  '11  be  blaming.' 

Oh,  yes,  he  is;  he  really  is;  tol  de  rol,  &c. 

Cried  Moll,  ■  You  stupid,  rash  cub; 

Think  you  I  'd  marry  such  a  scrub? 
Your  hopes  desist;'  so  with  her  fist 

She  soused  me  in  the  mash  tub! 
Oh,  yes,  she  did ;  she  really  did ;  tol  de  rol,  &c. 

MY  BARK  IS  UPON  THE  DEEP,  LOVE. 

My  bark  is  upon  the  deep,  love; 

My  comrades  impatient  call; 
Awake,  while  the  fairies  sleep,  love, 

Awake  thee!  more  bright  than  all. 

Awake!  awake!  Rosalie  dear,  awake. 

The  sun  may  dry  up  the  tear,  love, 
That  hangs  on  the  drooping  flower; 

But  cold  will  its  rays  appear,  love, 
Away  from  my  lady's  bower. 
But  cold,  &c. 

Awake!  for  yon  splashing  oar,  love, 
Its  diamonds  now  throws  to  light; 


126  jack  downing' s 

And  faint  from  the  distant  shore,  love, 
My  summons  comes  o'er  the  night. 
And  faint,  &c. 

I  go — but  ere  yonder  star,  love, 

Shall  set  in  the  mighty  sea, 
Thy  Carlos  shall  seek  the  war,  love, 
To  gather  its  wreaths  for  thee. 
Farewell!  farewell!  farewell! 
Rosalie,  love,  farewell! 

THE  HOBBIES. 

Attention  pray  give  while  of  hobbies  I  sing, 
For  each  has  his  hobby,  from  cobbler  to  king; 
On  some  favorite  hobby  we  all  get  astride, 
And  when  we  're  once  mounted,  full  gallop 
we  ride. 
All  on  hobbies,  all  on  hobbies, 
All  on  hobbies,  gee  up  and  gee  O. 

Some  hobbies  are  restive,  and  as  hard  to 
govern,  [stubborn; 

As  some  men's  wives,  who  are  obstinate  and 

The  hobbies  of  scolds  are  their  husbands  to 
tease, 

And  the  hobbies  of  lawyers  are  plenty  of  feas. 
All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

The  beaux,  those  sweet  gentlemen,  hobbies 

good  lack, 
Is  to  wear  great  poultices  tied  round  the  neck; 


SONG    BOOK.  1&7 

And  they  think  in  the  ton  and  the  tippy  they 
're  drest,  [to  che9t. 

If  they  've  breeches  that  reach  from  the  ancle 
All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

The  hobbies  of  sailors  when  safe  moored  in 
port,  [ptay  ar,d  to  sport; 

With  their  wives  and  their  sweethearts  to 

When  our  navy  's  completed,  their  hobby 
will  be, 

To  show  the  whole  world  that  America  's  free. 
All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

The  hobbies  of  soldiers,  in  time  of  great  wars, 
Are  breaches  and  battles,  with  blood,  wounds 
and  scars;  [ent  the  trade  is; 

But  in  peace,  you  '11  observe  that  quite  differ- 
The  hobbies  of  soldiers  in  peace,  are  the  ladies. 
All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

The  ladies,  sweet  creatures,  yes,  they  now 

and  then, 
Get  astride  of  their  hobbies,  just  like  the  men ; 
With  smiles  and  with  simpers,  beguile  us  with 

ease,  [please. 

And  we  gallop,  trot-double,  e'en  just  as  they 
All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

The  Americans'  hobby  has  long  since  been 

known;  [throne; 

No  tyrant  or  king  shall  from  them  have  a 


128  JACK  downing' s 

Their  States  are  united;  and  let  it  be  said, 
Their  hobby  is  Washington,  peace,  and  free 
trade. 

All  on  hobbies,  &c. 

THE  YOUNG  TROUBADOUR. 

To  the  mountain's  wild  echo  I  warble  my  lays, 
And  harmless  I  wander  through  woods  and 
through  braes;  [moor, 

The  peasant  by  moonlight  oft  strays  o'er  the 
To  welcome  the  song  of  the  young  troubadour. 

Oh,  come  to  the  lattice,  and  list  to  my  lay; 
Wave,  wave  thy  fair  hand  and  bid  me  stay; 
Oh,  grant  but  this  boon — I  ask  for  no  more; 
'T  will  enliven  the  song  of  the  young  trouba- 
dour. 

Then  I  '11  sing  the  old  ditties  of  heroes  that 
died,  [have  sighed; 

And  of  maidens  like  you,  for  whom  lovers 
Oh,  hearken  then,  lady,  to-morrow  I  'm  sure 
You  '11  welcome  the  song  of  the  young  trou- 
badour. 

I  'VE  BEEN  ROAMING. 

I  've  been  roaming,  I  've  been  roaming, 
Where  the  meadow  dew  is  sweet; 

And  I  'm  coming,  and  I  'm  coming, 
With  its  pearls  upon  my  feet. 


SONG    BOOK.  129 

I  've  been  roaming,  I  've  been  roaming, 
O'er  the  rose  and  lily  fair;  * 

And  I  'm  coming,  and  I  'm  coming. 
With  their  blossoms  in  my  hair. 

I  've  been  roaming,  I  5ve  been  roaming, 
Where  the  honeysuckle  creeps; 

And  I  'm  coming,  and  I  'in  coming, 
With  its  kisses  on  my  lips. 

I  've  been  roaming,  I  've  been  roaming, 

Over  hill  and  over  plain; 
And  I  'm  coming,  and  I  5m  coming, 

To  my  bower  back  again. 

JOCKY  TO  THE  FAIR. 

'T  was  on  the  morn  of  sweet  May  day, 
When  nature  painted  all  things  gay, 
Taught  birds  to  sing  and  lambs  to  play, 

And  gild  the  meadows  rare; 
Young  Jocky  early  in  the  dawn, 
Arose  and  tript  it  o'er  the  lawn; 
His  Sunday  coat  the  youth  put  on, 
For  Jenny  had  vowed  away  to  run 

With  Jocky  to  the  fair. 

The  cheerful  parish  bells  had  rung; 
With  eager  steps  he  trudged  along, 
With  flow'ry  garlands  round  him  hung, 
Which  shepherds  used  to  wear: 


130  jack  downing' s 

He  tapped  the  window — *  Haste,  my  dear!' 
Jenny,  impatient,  cried,  '  Who  's  there?' 
'T  is  I,  my  love,  and  no  one  near; 
Step  gently  down,  you  've  nought  to  fear, 
With  Jocky  to  the  fair.' 

6  My  dad  and  mamma  's  fast  asleep; 
My  brother  's  up  and  with  the  sheep; 
And  will  you  still  your  promise  keep 

Which  I  have  heard  you  swear? 
And  will  you  ever  constant  prove?' 
6  I  will,  by  all  the  powers  of  love; 
And  ne'er  deceive  my  charming  dove: 
Dispel  these  doubts,  and  haste,  my  love, 

With  Jocky  to  the  fair.' 

6  Behold  the  ring!'  the  shepherd  cried; 
*  Will  Jenny  be  my  charming  bride? 
Let  Cupid  be  our  happy  guide, 

And  Hymen  meet  us  there.' 
Then  Jocky  did  his  vows  renew, 
He  would  be  constant,  would  be  true: 
His  word  was  pledged — away  she  flew, 
O'er  cowslips  tipt  with  balmy  dew, 

With  Jocky  to  the  fair. 

In  raptures  meet  the  jovial  throng, 
Their  gay  companions,  blithe  and  young; 
Each  join  the  dance,  each  join  the  song, 

And  hails  the  happy  day ; 
Returned,  there  's  none  so  fond  as  they? 


SONG   BOOK.  131 

They  blessed  the  kind  propitious  day, 
The  smiling  morn  of  blooming  May, 
When  lovely  Jenny  run  away 
With  Jocky  to  the  fair. 

THE  BARD  THAT  'S  FAR  AWAM 

Though  cauldly  now  in  dust  he  lies, 

Whose  heart  sae  warmly  beat, 
His  spirit  frae  the  golden  skies,* 
Shall  auld  acquaintance  greet. 
Then  fill  the  cup,  my  trusty  frere; 

We  '11  drhjk  in  silence  a', 
To  him  who  claims  our  warmest  tear. 
The  bard  that 's  far  awa! 

We  Ml  miss  him  frae  his  wonted  place, 
We  '11  miss  him  frae  the  hearth; 

His  pleasant  speech,  and  kindly  face, 
That  brightened  a'  our  mirth. 

Then  fill  the  cup,  &c. 

Wi'  him  we  found  life's  weary  hours 

Gae  dancing  on  their  way ; 
Auld  Time,  wi'  temples  wreathed  wi'  flowers, 

Disguised  his  locks  o'  gray. 

Then  fill  the  cup,  &c. 

Let  worldlings  o'  his  genius  boast, 

And  praise  his  mighty  mind ; 
Love  finds  for  Scott  a  nobler  toast — 

The  friend  of  a'  mankind! 

Then  fill  the  cup,  &c. 


132  jack  downing's 

p 

OLD  GRIMES. 

Old  Grimes  is  dead:  that  good  old  man 

We  never  shall  see  more — 
He  used  to  wear  a  long,  black  coat, 

All  buttoned  down  before. 

His  heart  was  open  as  the  day ; 

His  feelings  all  were  true — 
His  hair  was  some  inclined  to  grey; 

He  wore  it  in  a  queue. 

Whene'er  he  heard  the  voice  of  pain, 
His  breast  with  pity  burned — 

The  large,  round  head  upon  his  cane, 
From  ivory  was  turned. 

And  ever  prompt  at  pity's  call; 

He  knew  no  base  design — 
His  eyes  were  dark,  and  rather  small; 

His  nose  was  acquiline. 

He  lived  at  peace  with  all  mankind; 

Gave  every  one  his  due — 
His  coat  had  pocket-holes  behind; 

His  pantaloons  were  blue. 

Unharmed,  the  guilt  which  earth  pollutes 

He  passed  securely  o'er — 
He  never  wore  a  pair  of  boots 

For  thirty  years  or  more. 


®a®  ©asssaiM! 


SONG   BOOK.  135 

But  good  Old  Grimes  is  now  at  rest, 

Beyond  misfortune's  frown — 
He  wore  a  double-breasted  vest, 

The  stripes  ran  up  and  down. 

He  modest  merit  sought  to  find, 

And  pay  it  its  desert — 
He  had  no  malice  in  his  mind, 

No  ruffles  on  his  shirt. 

His  neighbors  he  did  not  abuse, 

Was  sociable  and  gay — 
He  wore  large  buckles  in  his  shoes, 

And  changed  them  every  day. 

His  knowledge,  hid  from  public  gaze, 

He  did  not  bring  to  view — 
Nor  make  a  noise  town-meeting  days, 

As  many  people  do. 

His  worldly  goods  he  never  threw 
In  trust  to  fortune's  chances — 

But  lived  (as  all  his  brothers  do) 
In  easy  circumstances. 

Thus,  undisturbed  by  anxious  cares, 

His  peaceful  moments  ran — 
And  every  body  said  he  was 

A  find  old  gentleman. 

THE  KING  AND  COUNTRYMAN. 

There  was  an  old  chap  in  the  West  country, 
A  flaw  in  his  lease  the  lawyers  had  found, 


136  jack  downing' s 

'Twas  all  about  felling  of  five  oak  trees, 
And  building  a  house  upon  his  own  ground. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

Now  this  old  chap  to  London  would  go, 
To  tell  the  King  a  part  of  his  wo, 
Likewise  to  tell  him  a  part  of  his  grief, 
In  hopes  King  George  would  give  him  relief. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

Now  when  this  old  chap  to  London  had  come, 
He  found  the  King  to  Windsor  had  gone; 
But  if  he  had  known  he  'd  not  been  at  home, 
He  'd  dang'd  his  buttons  if  ever  he  }d  come. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

Now  when  this  old  chap  to  Windsor  did  stump, 

The  gates  were  barred  and  all  secure; 
But  he  knocked  and  thumped  with  his  oaken 
clump, 
There  's  room  within  for  me  I  'm  sure. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

Pray  Mr.  Noble,  show  I  the  King. 

Is  that  the  King  that  I  see  there  ? 
I  seed  a  chap  at  Bartlemy  fair 

Look  more  like  a  King  than  that  chap  there. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

Well,  Mr.  King,  pray  how  d  'ye  do  ? 
I  've  gotten  for  you  a  bit  of  a  job, 


, 


SONG    BOOK.  137 

Which  if  you  '11  be  so  kind  as  to  do, 

I  've  gotten  a  summat  for  you  in  my  fob. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

The  King  he  took  the  lease  in  hand, 
To  sign  it,  too,  was  likewise  willing; 

And  he  to  make  him  a  little  amends,      [ling. 
He  lugged  out  his  bag  and  gave  him  a  shil- 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

The  king  to  carry  on  the  joke, 

Ordered  ten  pounds  to  be  laid  down; 

The  farmer  he  stared,  but  nothing  spoke, 
He  stared  again,  and  he  scratched  his  crown. 
Ri  too  ra  loo,  &c. 

The  farmer  he  stared  to  see  so  much  money, 

And  to  take  it  up  was  likewise  willing, 
But  if  he  'd  known  he'd  got  so  much  money, 
He  dang  'd  his  wig  if  he  'd  gin  him  that 
shilling. 

Ri  too  ra  loo,  &o. 

Lr-A-W  LAW. 

Come  list  to  me  for  a  minute, 
A  song  I  'm  going  to  begin  it, 
There's  something  serious  in  it, 

So  pray  your  attention  draw. 

'Tis  all  about  the  law, 

Which  has  such  a  deuce  of  a  claw — • 
Experience  I  have  bought  it, 
And  now  to  you  have  brought  it, 


138  jack  downing's 

Will  yon  or  not  be  taught  it? 

I  sing  the  charms  of  law ; 
L-a-w  law — 

Which  has  such  a  deuce  of  a  claw; 
If  you  are  fond  of  pure  vexation, 
And  sweet  procrastination, 
You  're  just  in  a  situation 

To  enjoy  a  suit  at  law. 

When  your  cause  is  first  beginning, 
You  only  think  of  winning, 
Attorneys  slily  grinning 
The  while  the  cash  they  draw ; 
Your  case  goes  on,  see-saw, 
As  long  as  your  cash  they  draw, 
With  brief  and  consultation, 
Bill  and  replication, 
.  Latin  and  botheration, 

While  the  counsel  loudly  jaw; 
J-a-w  jaw, 
Is  a  very  great  thing  in  law,    . 
If  you  're  fond,  &c. 

Snail-like  the  cause  is  creeping, 
It  hinders  you  from  sleeping, 
Attorneys  only  reaping, 

For  still  your  cash  they  draw; 
D-r-a-w  draw, 

Is  the  main-spring  of  the  law: 
Misery,  toil  and  trouble, 
Make  up  the  hubble  bubble, 


SONG    BOOK.  139 

Leave  yon  nothing  but  stnbble, 
And  make  you  a  man  of  straw; 

S-t-r-a-w  straw, 
Divides  the  wheat  from  the  straw; 
If  you  're  fond  of,  &c. 

And  when  your  cause  is  ending, 
Your  case  is  nowise  mending, 
Expense  each  step  attending, 

And  then  they  find  a  flaw; 

Then  the  Judge  like  any  jackdaw, 

Will  lay  down  what  is  law. 
In  a  rotten  stick  your  trust  is, 
You  find  the  bubble  burst  is, 
And  though  you  don't  get  justice, 

You  're  sure  to  get  plenty  of  law. 
And  1-a-w  law, 

Leaves  you  not  worth  a  straw. 
If  you  're  fond  of,  &c. 

Should  you  cling  to  another  man's  wife, 
It  is  quite  the  rage  in  high  life, 
The  bijr  wigs  to  settle  the  strife, 

CO  * 

Plunge  you  and  the  husband  in  law; 

And  if  you  're  a  Johnny  Raw, 

Lord,  how  they  will  clapper  and  claw; 
They'll  knock  you  into  the  centre, 
The  piper  you  '11  pay  if  you  enter 
Upon  such  a  slippery  venture 

As  few  but  yourself  ever  saw. 
L»-a-w  law, 


140  jack  downing's 

Keeps  paw-paw  people  in  awe, 

So  if  you  ?re  fond  of,  &c. 

So  if  life  's  all  sugar  and  honey, 
And  fortune  has  always  been  sunny, 
And  you  want  to  get  rid  of  your  money, 

I  *d  advise  you  to  go  to  law. 

Like  ice  in  a  rapid  thaw, 

Your  cash  will  melt  awa' — 
Comfort  't  is  folly  to  care  for, 
Life  's  a  lottery — therefore, 
Without  a  why,  or  a  wherefore. 

I  'd  advise  you  to  go  to  law. 
And  1-a-w  law, 

Does  like  a  blister  draw, 

So  if  you  're  fond  of,  &c. 

W-A-R  WAR. 

Come  list  to  me  for  a  minute, 
A  song  I  'm  going  to  begin  it, 
There  's  something  serious  in  it, 

So  pray  your  attention  draw. 

'T  is  all  about  the  war, 

And  nothing  at  all  of  law. 
Experience  I  have  bought  it, 
And  now  to  you  have  brought  it, 
Will  you  or  not  be  taught  it, 

I  sing  the  charms  of  war. 

W-a-r  war — w-a-r  war, 
If  you  're  fond  of  a  cannon  ball,  sir, 
And  a  shot  that  will  make  you  squall,  sir, 


SONG    BOOK.  141 

If  you  're  good  for  nothing  at  all,  sir, 
You  'd  better  be  off  to  the  war. 

To  West-Point  first  you  '11  go,  sir, 
To  learn  to  turn  out  your  toes,  sir, 
And  they  '11  dress  you  up  in  grey  clothes,  sir, 

With  a  feather  a  going  see-saw, 

And  a  musket  in  your  paw, 

To  get  you  all  ready  for  war; 
And  when  you  're  a  little  older, 
With  a  tinsel  thing  on  your  shoulder, 
You  '11  astonish  every  beholder, 

Rigged  out  like  any  jackdaw. 

W-a-r  war — w-a-r  war, 
If  you  're  fond  of  a  cannon  ball,  sir,  &c. 

When  the  battle  's  first  beginning, 

You  '11  only  think  of  winning; 

But  in  the  midst  of  your  grinning, 
You  '11  receive  a  lick  in  the  jaw, 
And  you  '11  feel  very  sick  at  the  maw, 
From  the  foe  you  '11  be  glad  to  withdraw; 

With  grief  and  great  vexation, 

You  '11  quit  your  valiant  station, 

And  curse  the  destination, 

That  carried  you  off  to  the  war. 
W-a-r  war — w-a-r  war. 

If  you  're  fond  of  a  cannon  ball,  sir,  &c. 

And  when  your  wound  is  heeled  up, 
You  '11  find  that  you  are  keeled  up, 


142  jack  downing's 

That  the  temple  of  Janus  is  sealed  up, 
And  there  's  no  more  |gnng  to  war; 
Then  you  '11  wish  you^  studied  the  law, 
And  not  gone  away  to  the  war; 
They  will  strike  you  off  of  the  roll,  sir, 
And  you  will  be  a  little  soul,  sir, 
Without  any  one  to  condole,  sir 
With  you  for  the  lick  in  the  jaw. 
J-a-w  jaw — j-a-w  jaw. 
If  you  're  fond  of  a  cannon  ball,  sir,  &c. 

If  you  're  fond  of  smoke  and  powder, 

And  noises  than  thunder  louder, 

If  you  want  to  be  poorer  and  prouder, 

You  're  just  the  fellow  for  war; 

With  a  musket  in  your  paw, 

And  a  feather  a  going  see-saw; 
If  you  want  to  get  rid  of  your  wife,  sir, 
Or  to  lead  a  lazy  life,  sir, 
And  follow  the  drum  and  fife,  sir, 

You  'd  better  be  off  to  the  war. 

W-a-r  war — w-a-r  war. 
If  you  're  fond  of  a  cannon  ball,  sir,  &c. 

THE  SOLDIER'S  DELIGHT.         ] 

Ah,  what  delight  the  soldier  knows! 
In  war  he  now  advances; 
Of  his  king  the  true  knight, 

To  the  fair  then  he  glances, 
Warm  in  love  as  in  fight, 


SONG   BOOK.  143 

And  soon  as  the  clarion  soundeth, 
As  soon  as  he  hears  the  deep  drum, 

To  battle  the  gay  soldier  boundeth, 
With  a  laugh,  daring  death  to  come. 

Listen!  hark!  dost  hear? 
Listen!  hark!  a  cheer: 
Lo !  our  foes  fly ; 

O'er  's  the  affray. 
Fill  high; 

'T  is  we  have  won  the  day! 
Ah,  what  delight  the  soldier  knows! 
In  war  he  now  advances, 
Of  his  king  the  true  knight, 

To  the  fair  then  he  glances, 
Warm  in  love  as  in  fight. 
Near  his  home,  war  past,  re-appearing, 
All  to  greet  him  pour,  and  with  cheering, 
The  victor  to  hail, 
The  skies  rend! 
Round  him  pressing, 
With  their  blessing, 

Here  his  sire,  there  his  friend. 

NAIL  MACHINE. 

Sure  have  you  seen  a  nail  machine ; 

'T  is  all  the  people's  wonder,  O; 
It  thumps  away  both  night  and  day, 

And  makes  a  noise  like  thunder,  O. 
The  cranks  and  pans,  like  battering-rams, 

Do  keep  such  pelting,  pouncing,  O, 


144  jack  downing's 

That  all  the  ground  is  shook  around, 
By  reason  of  the  jouncing,  O. 

Now  you  must  know  that  I'da  lot  of  cous- 
ins, that  com'd  all  the  way  down  from  Var- 
mount,  to  larn  the  fashions,  and  to  see  all  the 
cute  and  curious  thingumjigs  of  the  old  colony. 
By  jolly,  (said  Zachary  Diggins,)  I  insign  to 
see  the  nail-works,  if  it  costs  me  my  fire-ball 
colt;  for  Uncle  Fife  told  us,  that  they  had  ten 
thousand  rattle-traps,  and  they  kept  up  such 
a  tarnal 

Rattlety  bang,  and  clatterty  clang, 
And  rattlety,  clatterty  bang  they  go. 

So  off  we  set,  with  Tom  and  Bet, 

Young  Stephen  Bumps,  and  Dolly,  O, 
And  Jo,  and  Josh,  and  Bill  Magosh, 

Ned  Shacklefoot,  the  jolly,  O. 
And  Suzy  Zudd,  and  Minny  Ludd, 

They  rode  behind  on  pillions,  O, 
And  Sary  Slack;  they  made  such  clack, 

You  'd  thought  there  was  a  million,  O. 

We  scampered  along  through  mud  and  mire, 
quite  in  the  style  of  the  fashionables,  till  we 
were  brought  up  all  standing,  full  before  squire 
Clinker's  nail-works,  and  were  soon  genteely 
escorted  into  the  verv  bowels  of  the  establish- 
ment;  when  out  squeeled  aunt  Betty  Diggins, 
as  loud  as  any  shriek  owl: — Oh!  the  wonder-* 
ation!  what  a  sight  of  jigamarees!    Yes,  faith,)V 


SONG  BOOK.  145 

(quoth  Ned,)  and  as  thick  as  ten  bumblebees 
in  a  pumpkin  blow.  Rabbit  ye,  Bets,  an'  be 
darned  to  you!  (bawled  out  Zachary,)  and  hold 
your  gab  thar!  Oh!  the  old  sneezer!  how  they 
shell  'em  up,  (cried  Josh.)  And  then  cousin 
Dolly ,  the  school  dame,  she  was  quite  sensitive. 
Oh!  by  the  lurry  and  living  jingoes,  (says 
Doll,)  I'll  be  soused  into  a  butter-tub,  if  ever 
I  saw  such  curosity  thingums  in  all  my  born 
days!  Fags  and  catnip!  I  'm  all  over  goose 
jpimples! — Flammation!  (sung  out  Tom,)  how 
[they  chop  the  iron  up!  Then  Bill  taking  his 
jturn,  exclaimed:  Odds  bobs  and  buttakins! 
uncle  Jeremy's  thrashing-mill  is  no  touch  to 
ihat  'are!  take  care,  Stephen,  or  you  will  have 
lyour  gizzard  ripped  out  by  them  'are  smash- 
[srs,  as  quick  as  a  pig  can  crack  a  walnut. 
Now  all  this,  you  know,  was  a  very  delightful 
iccompaniment  to  the  affettuoso  of  the  ma- 
chinery, as  it  delicately  touched  off  its 

Rattlety  bang,  &c. 

len  up  went  Joe,  he  thought  as  how 

He  'd  like  to  try  the  riggle,  O; 
Jut  all  his  jerks,  and  awkward  quirks, 

Soon  set  them  in  a  giggle,  O. 
*ooh!  Jo,  you  loot,  (said  Shacklefoot,) 

You  'd  better  come  to  halting,  O, 
ind  stop  the  noise  of  these  rude  boys, 

By  paying  off  the  malting,  O. 

9 


146  jack  do^ning's 

Now  you  all  know,  that  in  a  printer's  shop, 
if  a  meddler  should  happen  to  burn  his  fingers 
a  little,  by  dabbling  with  their  big  primer, 
pica  or  black  ball,  then  he  must,  look  out  for 
a  brace  of  printer's  devils  about  his  ears — the 
like  it  was  with  poor  cousin  Josy;  he  had 
never  before  been  beyond  his  father's  farm, 
in  all  his  life,  to  lam  the  tricks  played  on 
travellers;  the  lad  was  most  surely  in  for 't, 
and  a  treat  of  whiskey  was  now  the  only  rem- 
edy to  place  him  in  a  respectable  standing 
again,  and  to  put  an  end  to  their  continual 

Gibblety  gab,  and  ribblety  rab, 
And  gigglety,  gigglety,  gabble,  O. 

Oh!  then  they  got  a  two  quart  pot, 

That  shined  like  coachmen's  brasses,  O, 
And  Jo  put  in  a  quart  of  gin, 

And  sweetened  it  with  lasses,  O. 
He  passed  it  round,  and  all  did  swig, 

Till  they  had  got  a  plenty,  O, 
And  each  became  a  merry  grig; 

Oh!  there  were  nearly  twenty,  O. 

By  the  way,  it  has  been  slanderously  re- 
ported, that  some  of  the  pretty  gals  got  a  little 
fuddled  withal;  but  mind  ye,  I  '11  never  be 
hanged  for  defamation;  all  I  can  tell  about 
the  matter,  is,  that  it  let  the  de'il  into  their 
slippery  tongues,  whose  confounded  gibber 
gabber  outrattled  and  rumbled  the  deep  tona- 


SONG   BOOK.  147 

tion  of  the  machinery,  with  their  abominable 

Clickety  clack,  and  lickety  whack, 
And  wicltety,  clickety,  whack  we  go. 

Then  came  the  clerk,  a  brisk  young  spark, 

All  bowing  to  each  lady,  O, 
And  questions  all,  both  great  and  small, 

To  answer  he  was  ready,  O! 
The  gals  were  pleased,  for  them  he  squeezed, 

They  hardly  could  deny  him,  O! 
And  Sary  Slack,  she  got  a  smack, 

Unless  they  did  belie  Tiim,  O. 

This  little  animal,  the  clerk,  was  a  sort  of 
would-be  dandy,  having  the  bottom  of  his 
waist  pinched  up  to  the  size  of  a  quart  pot,  and 
thus  resembling,  in  shape,  what  we  call  a  mud 
wasp;  he  wore  eleven  capes  to  his  coat,  and 
had  over  the  place  where  his  brains  should  be, 
a  jockey  cap  of  catskin,  and  carried  a  mock- 
gold  watch,  with  two  seals,  each  as  big  as  a 
premium  turnip!  Oh!  these  dear  little  creatures 
are  always  so  vastly  attentive  to  the  ladies! 
They  may  easily  be  distinguished  from  other 
animals  by  their  singular  gait,  which  is  a  sort  of 

Tippity  bob,  tippity  bob, 
Oh!  1  am  all  the  tippy,  O. 

So  round  we  went,  wi'  minds  intent 
On  all  this  mighty  working,  O; 


148  jack  downing's 

'T  was  tarnal  queer,  sich  wondrous  gear, 
And  O!  sich  jams  and  jerkings,  O!  * 

At  length  says  Tom — Let 's  strike  for  home, 
To-night  you  know  %  the  dancing,  O; 

Oh,  yes!  (says  Zack,)  if  we  go  back, 
'T  is  time  we  were  a  prancing,  O. 

So  each  lad  of  us  took  his  lass,  and  then  in 
comely  mood  we  all  departed.  It  was,  how- 
ever, thought  by  most  of  the  gals,  that  Mr. 
Tippy  paid  too  much  attention  to  Sary  Slack, 
considering  as  how  cousin  Sary  was  no  better, 
and  to  be  sure  1  '11  say  no  worse  than  the  rest 
on  'em.  But  the  school-dame  we  thought 
was  too  severe  on  the  occasion ;  for  she  de- 
clared: By  the  jumping  Moses!  such  indictions 
ought  to  be  carried  before  the  highest  court  of 
juncture,  for  they  quite  annihilated  all  satisfac- 
tion of  the  wisitation.  But  all  hard  thoughts, 
and  hard  words,  were  soon  dissipated  by  the 
frolic  and  fun  on  the  road,  as  we  jovially  drove 
home  with 

Merrily  ho!  whisp  dobbin,  gee  ho! 
Gallopping  gaily  and  cheery,  O! 

Then  home  we  got,  by  gallop  and  trot, 

In  season  for  the  junket,  O! 
And  there  was  Sam,  and  Katy  Cram, 

And  cousin  David  Plunket,  O! 
Now  hark,  around!  the  cheering  sound 

Of  Peg  and  Pero's  scraping,  O! 

Hi  i%  . 


%  SONG    BOOK.  149 

In  merry  plight,  we  spent  the  night, 
In  frolicking  and  capering,  O. 

Now  as  this  was  probably  the  last  time  we 
should  all  be  together  under  such  pleasant  cir- 
cumstances, we  resolved  to  keep  it  up  till  the 
cows  came  home,  as  cousin  Minny  said;  and 
to  be  sure  we  did  it  right  merrily,  with  Hunt 
the  Squirrel,  Jo  Baker,  Barrel  of  Sugar,  &c. 
Here,  however,  was  none  of  your  dances 
called  shawsees,  rigmadoons,  &c.  but  the  good 
old  fashioned 

Rigglety  bump,  and  shufflety  thump! 
And  shufflety,  scufflety  clump,  we  go! 

ALKNOMOOK. 

The  sun  sets  at  night,  and  the  stars  shun  the  day, 
But  glory  remains  when  the  light  fades  away. 
Begin,  ye  tormentors,  your  threats  are  in  vain, 
For  the  son  of  Alknomook  shall  never  com- 
plain. 

Remember  the  arrows  he  shot  from  his  bow; 
Remember  your  chiefs  by  his  hatchet  laid  low ; 
Why  so  slow?  do  you  wait  till  I  shrink  from 

my  pain?  [plain. 

No!  the  son  of  Alknomook  shall  never  corn- 
Remember  the  wood  where  in  ambush  we  lay, 
And  the  scalps  which  we  bore  from  your  na* 

tion  away ; 

i 


150  jack  downing's 

Now  the  flame  rises  fast,  yon  exult  in  my  pain, 
But  the  son  of  Alknomook  shall  never  com- 
plain. 

I  go  to  the  land  where  my  father  is  gone; 
His  ghost  shall  rejoice  in  the  fame  of  his  son; 
Death  comes  like  a  friend  to  relieve  me  from 
pain;  [complain. 

And  thy  son,  oh!  Alknomook,  has  scorned  to 

THE  FLOW'R  O'  DUMBLANE. 

The  sun  has  gone  down  o  'er  the  lofty  Benlo- 

mond.  [scene; 

And  left  the  red  clouds  to  preside  o'er  the 

While  lanely  I  stray    in  the  calm    simmer 

gloaming,  [blane. 

To  muse  on  sweet  Jessie,  the  flower  o'  Dum- 

How  sweet  is  the  briar,  wi'  its  saft  faulding 

blossom 

And  sweet  is  the  birk,  wi'  its  mantle  o'  green ; 

Yet  sweeter  and  fairer  and  dear  to  this  bosom, 

Is  lovely  young  Jessie,  the  flower  o'  Dum- 

blane. 

She's  modest  as  ony ,  and  blythe  as  she's  bonny, 
For  guiltless  simplicity  marks  her  its  ain; 

And  far  be  the  villain  divested  o'  feeling, 
Wha  'd  blight   in  its   bloom,  the    sweet 
flow'r  o'  Dumblane, 


4- 

OK. 


SONG   BOOK.  151 

SiA^m  thou  sweet  mavis,  thy   hymn  in  the 
e'ening,  [glen; 

■hon  'rt  dear  to  the  echoes  o'  Calderwood 
S§|  dear  to   this  bosom,  sae  artless  and  win- 
ning, [Dumblane. 
Is  charming  young  Jessie,  the  flow'r  o' 

How  lost  were  my  days  till  I  met  wi'  my  Jes- 
sie, [vain; 
The  sports  o'  the  city  seemed  foolish  and 
I  ne'er  saw  a  nymph  I  could  ca'  my  dear  las- 
sie,                                     [Dumblane. 
Till  charmed  wi'  sweet  Jessie,  the  flower  o' 

Though  mine  were  the  station  o'  loftiest  gran- 
deur, 
Amidst  the  profusion  I  'd  languish  in  pain; 
And  reckon  as  naething  the  height  of  its  splen- 
dor, [Dumblane. 
If  wanting   sweet   Jessie,   the   flower   o^ 

WHAT  IS  A  WOMAN  LIKE? 

A  woman  is  like  to — but  stay — 

What  a  woman  is  like,  who  can  say? 
There  's  no  living  with  or  without  one. 

Love  bites  like  a  fly, 

Now  an  ear,  now  an  eye, 
Buzz,  buzz,  always  buzzing  about  one. 

When  she  is  tender  and  kind, 

She  's  like,  to  my  mind, 


152  jack  downing's 

(And  Fanny  was  so,  I  remember,) 
She  's  like  to — Oh,  dear! 
She  's  as  good,  very  near, 
As  a  ripe,  melting  peach  in  September. 
If  she  laugh,  and  she  chat, 
Play,  joke,  and  all  that, 
And  with  smiles  and  good  humor  she  meet  me, 
She  *s  like  a  rich  dish 
Of  venison  or  fish, 
That  cries  from  the  table,  Come,  eat  me! 
But  she  '11  plague  you,  and  vex  you, 
Distract  and  perplex  you; 
False-hearted  and  ranging, 
Unsettled  and  changing: 
What,  then,  do  you  think  she  is  like? 
Like  a  sand,  like  a  rock, 
Like  a  wheel,  like  a  clock, 
Ay,  a  clock  that  is  always  at  strike. 
Her  head  }s  like  the  island  folks  tell  on, 
Which  nothing  but  monkeys  can  dwell  on: 
Her  heart 's  like  a  lemon — so  nice, 
She  carves  for  each  lover  a  slice: 
In  truth  she  's  to  me 
Like  the  wind,  like  the  sea, 
Whose  raging  will  hearken  to  no  man; 
Like  a  mill,  like  a  pill, 
Like  a  flail,  like  a  whale, 
Like  an  ass,  like  a  glass 
Whose  image  is  constant  to  no  man ; 
Like  a  flower,  like  a  shower, 
Like  a  fly,  like  a  pie, 


SONG   BOOK/  153 

Like  a  pea,  like  a  flea, 
Like  a  thief,  like — in  brief, 
She  's  like  nothing  on  earth — but  a  woman! 

THEY  'RE  A'  NODDIN. 

And  they  're  a'  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 
And  they  're  a'  noddin,  at  our  house  at  hame; 
The  cats  lo'e  milk  and  the  dogs  lo'e  broo, 
The  lads  lo'e  lasses  and  the  lasses  lo 'e  lads  too ; 
And  they  're  a'  noddin,  &c. 

O  they  're  a'  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 
O  they  're  a'  noddin  at  our  house  at  hame; 
In  comes  old  dame  wi'  a  pan  o'  good  broo; 
The  de'il  tak'  ye  a'  for  ye  've  been  a  noddin 
too; 
And  we  're  a'  noddin,  &c. 

0  we  're  a'  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 
)  we  're  a'  noddin,  at  our  house  at  hame; 
Vn'  how  d'  ye  dame,  an'  how  d'  ye  thrive, 
kn'  how  many  bairns  ha'  ye?    Lassie,  I  ha* 
five; 
And  they  're  a'  noddin,  &c. 

we  're  a'  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 
we  're  a'  noddin  at  our  house  at  hame; 
it  the  drums  they  beat,  and  the  pipes  they 

play, 
nd  the  foulk  are  a*  crazy  for  to  march  away; 
While  wo  're  a'  noddin,  &c. 


154  jack  downing's 

O  we  're  a'  noddin,  nid,  nid,  noddin, 
O  we  're  a'  noddin  at  our  house  at  hame; 
My  Jemmie  tarry  not  when  your  country  ca's, 
For  glory  waits  on  him  wha  for  Scotland  fa's. 
While  we  're  a'  noddin,  &c. 

THE  PILGRIM  FATHERS. 

The  breaking  waves  dashed  high, 

On  a  stern  and  rock-bound  coast; 
And  the  trees  against  a  stormy  sky, 

Their  giant  branches  tossed ; 
And  the  heavy  night  hung  dark, 

The  hills  and  waters  o'er, 
When  a  band  of  exiles  moored  their  bark, 

On  the  wild  New-England  shore. 

Not  as  the  conqueror  comes, 

They,  the  true-hearted  came; 
Not  with  the  roll  of  the  stirring  drum, 
*  Or  the  trumpet  that  sings  of  fame. 
Not  as  the  flying  come, 

In  silence  and  in  fear; 
They  shook  the  depths  of  the  desert's  gloom, 

With  their  hymns  of  lofty  cheer. 

Amidst  the  storm  they  sang ! 

And  the  stars  heard,  and  the  sea! 
And  the  sounding  aisle  of  the  dim  wood  rang 

To  the  anthem  of  the  free! 
The  ocean  eagle  soared 

From  his  nest  by  the  white  wave's  foam; 


SONG   BOOK.  155 

And  the  rocking  pines  of  the  forest  roared; 
This  was  their  welcome  home! 

What  sought  they  thus  afar? 

Bright  jewels  of  the  mine? 
The  wealth  of  seas,  the  spoils  of  war? 

They  sought  a  faith's  pure  shrine. 
Aye,  call  it  holy  ground, 

The  spot  where  first  they  trod;        [found, 
They   have  left  unstained   what  there  they 

Freedom  to  worship  God! 

I  AM  A  VERY  LITTLE  MAN. 

I  am  a  very  little  man, 

And  have  a  little  wife, 
A  little  boy,  a  little  girl, 

The  little  sweets  of  life; 
My  little  wife  is  in  her  teens, 

I  'm  a  little  more  than  twenty, 
We  live  by  very  little  means, 

And  health  makes  little  plenty. 

We  keep  a  little  huckster's  shop, 

And  have  a  little  trade; 
By  little  gains,  and  little  pains, 

Our  little  wealth  is  made. 
We  have  a  little  company, 

Our  little  time  to  sweeten; 
My  boy  has  got  a  little  dog, 

My  girl  a  little  kitten. 


156  jack  downing's 

Assembled  round  our  little  board, 

We  feel  no  little  thanks, 
To  see  our  little  brood  enjoy 

Their  numerous  little  pranks. 
When  crossed  by  little  cares  of  life, 

We  little  think  to  mourn; 
Resigned  to  little  incidents, 

Our  little  hopes  return. 

And  little  though  we  always  were, 

And  little  e'er  shall  be, 
We  little  fear  the  world  shall  scorn 

Our  little  family. 
And  as  we  want  but  little  here, 

And  heed  not  little  nettles, 
In  goodly  time  we  hope  to  rear 

A  host  of  little  Littles. 

THE  LAST  LINK  IS  BROKEN.        j 

The  last  link  is  broken  that  bound  me  to  thee; 
And  the  words  thou  hast  spoken  have  rendered 

me  free;  [may  shine; 

That  bright  glance,  misleading,  on  others 
Those  eyes  smile  unheeding,  when  tears  burst 

from  mine.  [is  o'er; 

If  my  love  was  deemed  boldness,  that  error 
I  've  witnessed  thy  coldness,  and  prize  thee 

no  more.  [yetI 

I  have  not  loved  lightly,  I  'U  think  on  thee 
J  '11  pray  for  thee  nightly,  till  life's  sun  has  set. 


SONG   BOOK.  157 

The  heart  thou  hast  broken  once  doted  on  thee, 
And  the  words  I  have  spoken  prove  sorrow 

to  me.  [spoken  free, 

Oh!  hadst  thou  then  treasured  my  thoughts, 
Thou  could'st  not  have  measured  thine  own 

love  to  me.  [was  thine; 

But,  oh!  thou  hast  sorrowed  the  heart  that 
I  '11  return  to   thee,   borrowed,  the  one  I 

thought  mine. 

I  have  not  loved  lightly,  &c. 

THINK  OF  ME  OFT. 

Think  of  me  oft  at  twilight's  hour, 

And  I  will  think  of  thee; 
Remembering  how  we  've  felt  its  power, 

When  thou  wast  still  with  me. 

Dear  is  that  hour,  for  day  then  sleeps 
Upon  the  gray  clouds'  breast, 

And  not  a  voice  or  sound  then  keeps 
His  wearied  eyes  from  rest. 
Think  of  me  oft,  &c. 

Then  hast  thou  marked  the  track  of  light, 

That  blushed  along  the  sky, 
And  bid  me  hope  that  thus  as  bright 

Our  evening  sun  would  die. 
Think  of  me  oft,  &c. 

And  hope  still  lingers  round  my  heart, 
That  thu3  my  days  shall  close; 


158  JACK   DOWNING*S 

That  when  our  evening  suns  depart, 
Calm  shall  be  our  repose. 

Think  of  me  oft,  &c. 

THE  GARLAND  OF  LOVE.  I 

How  sweet  are  the  flowers  that  grow  by  yon 

fountain!  [the  grove; 

And  sweet  are  the  cowslips  that  spangle 

And  sweet  is  the  breeze  that  blows  over  the 

mountain; 

But  sweeter,  by  far,  is  the  lad  that  I  love. 
Then  I  '11  weave  a  gay  garland, 
A  fresh  blooming  garland, 
With  lilies  and  roses, 
And  sweet  blooming  posies, 
To  give  to  the  lad  my  heart  tells  me  1  love. 

It  was  down  in  yon  vale,  where  the  sweet 

Sphorza  gliding,  [dark  grove, 

In  murmuring  streams  ripples  through  the 

I  owned  what  I  felt,  all  my  passion  confiding, 

To  ease  the  fond  sinhs  of  the  lad  that  I  love. 

And  I  '11  weave,  &c. 

O !  MERRY  ROW  THE  BONNIE  BARK. 

O!  merry  row,  O!  me.rry  row, 

The  bonnie,  bonnie  bark; 
Bring  back  my  love  to  calm  my  wo, 

Before  the  night  grows  dark. 
My  Donald  wears  a  bonnet  blue, 


s 


ONG    BOOK.  159 


A  snow-white  rose  upon  it  too, 

A  Highland  lad  is  he! 
Then  merry  row,  O!  merry  row, 

And  bring  him  safe  to  me. 

As  on  the  pebbly  beach  I  strayed, 
Where  rocks  and  shoals  prevail, 
I  thus  o'erheard  a  Lowland  maid, 

Her  absent  love  bewail: 
A  storm  arose,  the  waves  run  high, 
And  dark  and  murky  was  the  sky, 

The  wind  did  loudly  roar. 
But  merry  rowed  the  bonnie  bark, 
And  brought  her  love  ashore. 

THE  SHIP  IS  READY. 

Fare-thee-well!  the  ship  is  ready, 
And  the  breezeis  fresh  and  steady; 
Hands  are  fast  the  anchor  weighing; 
High  in  air  the  streamers  playing; 
Spread  the  sails,  the  waves  are  swelling 
Proudly  round  thy  buoyant  dwelling; 
Fare-thee-well!  and  when  at  sea, 
Think  of  those  who  sigh  for  thee. 

When  from  home  and  land  receding, 
And  fromJiearts  that  ache  to  bleeding, 
Think  of  those  behind,  that  love  thee, 
While  the  sun  is  bright  above  thee; 
Then,  as  down  to  ocean  glancing, 
With  the  waves  his  rays  are  dancing, 


160  JACK   DOWNING^ 

Think  how  long  the  night  will  be, 
To  the  eyes  that  weep  for  thee. 

When  the  lonely  night-watch  keeping 
All  below  thee  still  and  sleeping — 
As  the  needle  points  the  quarts 
On  the  wide  and  trackless  wattes — 
Let  thy  vigils  ever  find  thee, 
Mindful  of  the  friends  behind  thee; 
Let  thy  bosom's  magnet  be 
Turned  to  those,  who  wake  for  thee. 

When  with  slow  and  gentle  motion 
Heaves  the  bosom  of  the  ocean, 
While  in  peace  thy  bark  is  riding, 
And  the  silver  moon  is  gliding 
O'er  the  sky,  with  tranquil  splendor, 
Where  the  shining  hosts  attend  her, 
Let  thy  brightest  visions  be, 
Country,  home,  and  friend  to  thee! 

THE  VOICE  OF  HER  I  LOVE. 

How  sweet  at  close  of  silent  eve, 

The  harp's  responsive  sound; 
How  sweet  the  vows  that  ne'er  deceive, 

And  deeds  by  virtue  crowned. 
How  sweet  to  sit  beneath  a  tree, 

In  some  delightful  grove; 
But  oh!  more  soft,  more  sweet  to  me, 

The  voice  of  her  I  love. 


"song  book.  161 

Whene'er  she  joins  the  village  train, 

To  hail  the  new-born  day, 
Mellifluous  notes  compose  each  strain 

Which  zephyrs  waft  away. 
The  frowns  of  fate  I  '11  calmly  bear, 

In  humble  sphere  to  move; 
Content  and  blessed,  whene'er  I  hear 

The  voice  of  her  I  love. 

THE  WOODPECKER.  * 

knew  by  the  smoke  that  so  gracefully  curled 

Above  the  green  elms,  that  a  cottage  was 

near;  [the  world, 

knd  I  said,  If  there  's  peace  to  be  found  in 

A  heart  that  is  humble  might  hope  for  it  here. 

>ery  leaf  was  at  rest,   and  I  heard  not  a 

sound,  [tree. 

;ut  the  woodpecker  tapping  the  hollow  beech 

nd  here,  in  this  lone  little  wood,  I  ex- 
claimed, [to  eye, 

With  a  maid  who  was  lovely  to  soul  and 

^ho  would  blush  if  I  praised  her,  and  weep 
if  I  blamed,  [could  I  die. 

How  blest  could  I  live,  and  how  calm 

I  Every  leaf  was  at  rest,  &c. 

the  shade  of  yon  hawthorn,  whose  red 
berry  dips,  [recline, 

In  the  gush  of  the  fountain  how  sweet  to 
10 


162  jack  downing's 

And  to  know  that  I  sighed  upon  innocent 
lips,  [but  mine. 

Which  ne'er  had  been  sighed  on  by  any 
Every  leaf  was  at  rest,  &c. 

ALL  HAIL  TO  THE  BRAVE  AND  FREE. 

All  hail  to  the  brave^nd  free,  " 

On  land  or  on  rolling  sea, 
Whose  hosts  advance,  with  sword  and  lance, 

In  the  cause  of  liberty. 

And  whether  in  triumph's  car, 

They  follow  vict'ry's  star, 
Or  patriot's  faH,  'neath  glory's  pall, 

They  are  still  the  pride  of  the  war. 
Then  hail  to  the  brave  and  free,  &c. 

Oh,  who  on  the  rolls  of  fame, 

Shall  boast  the  highest  name? 
Or  who  shall  bear  from  woman  fair, 

Those  smiles  which  the  world  would  claim? 

For  whom  shall  the  song  arise, 

Which  a  people  send  to  the  skies? 
For  whom  shall  bloom,  on  the  battle  tomb, 

The  laurel  that  never  dies? 

Oh,  none  but  the  brave  and  Free,  &c. 

Then  raise  our  flag  on  high, 
A  meteor  'gainst  the  sky; 
With  rolling  drum,  we  '11  proudly  come, 
To  guard  it,  or  to  die. 


SONG    BOOK.  1G3 

Finn  place  the  lance  in  rest, 
Against  a  faithful  breast; 
The  trumpets  call,  obey  we  all, 
And  valor  shall  do  the  best. 

And  Jhen  with  the  brave  and  free,  &c. 

™  ADDY  •LAPSTOiNE. 

Last  week  I  took  a  wife, 

And  when  I  first  did  woo  her, 
I  vowed  to  stick  through  life, 

Like  cobbler's  wax  unto  her; 
But  soon  we  went  by  some  mishap, 

To  loggerheads  together; 
And  when  my  wife  began  to  strap, 

Why,  I  began  to  leather. 

My  wife  without  her  shoes, 

Is  hardly  three  feet  seven; 
While  I,  to  all  men's  views, 

Am  full  five  feet  eleven; 
So  when,  to  take  her  down  some  pegs, 

I  drubbed  her  neat  and  clever, 
She  made  a  bolt  right  through  my  legs, 

And  ran  away  forever. 

When  she  was  gone,  good-lack! 

My  hair  like  horse-fiair  bristled; 
I  thought  she  5d  ne'er  come -back, 

So  went  to  work  and  whistled. 
Then  let  her  go,  I  've  got  my  stall, 

Which  may  no  robber  rifle; 


184  jack  downing's 

'T  would  break  my  heart  to  lose  my  awl; 
To  lose  my  wife  *s  a  trifle. 

WEDLOCK  IS  A  TICKLISH  THING. 

Wedlock  is  a  ticklish  thing, 

Hey!  merrily  ho!  and  ho!  merrily  hey! 
And  will  joy  or  sorrow  bring, 

Hey!  merrily  ho!  &c. 
Oh!  how  delightful,  glides  their  time  away, 
Who,  never  spiteful,  only  toy  and  play. 

Will  you  take  a  walk,  my  dear?  With 
great  pleasure,  my  love.  Then  pray  put  on 
your  clogs,  for  it  is  very  damp.  And  do  you 
put  on  your  great  coat,  for  fear  of  catching 
cold.  Oh!  thank  you,  my  darling,  for  your 
tender  care.     Oh, 

Wedlock's  joys  are  soft  and  sweet, 

Hey!  merrily  ho!  &c. 
When  fond  hearts  in  union  meet, 

Ho!  merrily  hey!  &c. 

Let  us  only  change  the  scene, 

Hey!  terrible  ho!   &c. 
Take  a  peep  behind  the  scene, 

Ho!  terrible  hey!  &c. 
What  she  proposes,  be  it  good  or  bad, 
He  still  opposes,  till  he  drives  her  mad. 

Do  you  dine  at  home  to-day,  sir?  Can't 
tell.  What  shall  I  order  for  dinner?  What 
you  like.     Should  you  like  a  chicken  boiled 


SONG    BOOK.  165 

or  roasted?  Neither;  I  hate  chicken.  Then 
what  will  you  have?  Nothing.  Oh!  very 
well,  sir.     Very  well,  ma'am.     Oh, 

Wedlock  is  a  dreadful  state, 

Ho!  terrible  hey!  &c. 
When  cold  hearts  are  joined  by  fate, 

Hey!  terrible  ho!  &c. 

HERE  'S  THE  BOWER. 

Here  's  the  bower  she  loved  so  much ; 

And  here  's  the  tree  she  planted; 
Here  's  the  harp  she  used  to  touch; 

Oh!  how  that  touch  enchanted! 
Roses  now  unheeded  sigh — 

Where  's  the  hand  to  wreathe  them? 
Songs  around  neglected  lie — 

Where  's  the  lips  to  breathe  them? 

Spring  may  bloom,  but  she  we  loved     '*$■ 

Ne'er  shall  feel  its  sweetness; 
Time  that  once  so  fleetly  moved, 

Now  hath  lost  its  fleetness. 
Years  were  days  when  here  she  strayed, 

Days  were  moments  near  her; 
Heaven  ne'er  formed  a  brighter  maid, 

Nor  pity  wept  a  dearer. 

COME,  REST  IN  THIS  BOSOM. 

Come,  rest  in  this  bosom,  my  own  stricken 

deer!  [home  is  still  here; 

Though  the  herd  have  flown  from  thee,  thy 


166  jack  downing's 

Here  still  is  the  smile  that  no  cloud  can  o'er- 

cast,  [the  last! 

And  the  heart  and  the  hand,  all  thy  own  tc 

Oh!  what  was  love  made  for,  if  't  is  not  the 
same  [gl°ry  aI*d  shame? 

Through  joy  and  through  torments^  through 

I  know  not,  I  ask  not,  if  guilt 's  in  that  heart. 

I  but  know  that  I  love  thee,  whatever  thou 
art! 

Thou  hast  called  me  thy  angel,  in  moments 
of  bliss, —  [this, — 

Still  thy  angel  I  '11  be,  'mid  the  horrors  of 

Through  the  furnace,  unshrinking,  thy  steps 
to  pursue,  [there  too, 

And  shield  thee,  and  save  thee,  or  perish 

ALICE  GRAY. 

She  's  all  my  fancy  painted  her, 

She  's  lovely!  she  's  divine! 
But  her  heart  is  another's, 

She  never  can  be  mine; 
Yet  loved  I,  as  man  never  loved, 

A  love  without  decay; 
Oh!  my  heart  is  breaking 

For  the  love  of  Alice  Gray. 

Her  dark  brown  hair  is  braided 
O'er  a  brow  of  spotless  white; 


SONG    BOOK.  167 

Her  soft  blue  eye  now  languishes, 

Now  flashes  with  delight. 
The  hair  is  braided  not  for  me, 

The  eve  is  turned  away, 
Yet  my  heart,  my  heart  is  breaking, 

For  the  love  of  Alice  Gray. 

For  her  I  'd  climb  the  mountain  side, 

For  her  I  'd  stem  the  flood — 
For  her  I  'd  dare  the  battle  strife, 

Though  I  sealed  it  with  my  blood. 
By  night  I  'd  watch  her  slumbers, 

And  tend  her  steps  by  day — 
But  scorned  is  the  heart  that  's  breaking 

For  the  love  of  Alice  Gray. 

I  've  sank  beneath  the  summer's  sun, 

And  trembled  in  the  blast; 
But  my  pilgrimage  is  nearly  done, 

The  heavy  conflict  *s  past. 
And  when  the  green  sod  wraps  my  grave, 

May  pity  haply  say, 
'  Oh!  his  heart  was  broken 

For  the  love  of  Alice  Gray." 

AWAY  WITH  MELANCHOLY. 

Away  with  melancholy. 

Nor  doleful  changes  ring, 
On  life  and  human  folly; 

But  merrily  let  us  sing, 
Fal  la. 


168  jack  downing' s 

For  what  's  the  use  of  sighing, 

Co7 

When  time  is  on  the  wing? 
Can  we  prevent  its  flying? 
Then  merrily  let  us  sing, 
Fal  la. 

Come  on  ye  rosy  hours, 

Gay  smiling  moments  bring, 

We  '11  strew  the  way  with  flowers, 
And  merrily,  merrily  sing, 
Fal  la. 

MY  FRIEND  AND  PITCHER. 

The  wealthy  fool,  with  gold  in  store, 

Will  still  desire  to  grow  richer; 
Give  me  but  these,  I  ask  no  more. 

My  charming  girl,  my  friend,  and  pitcher. 
My  friend  so  rare,  my  girl  so  fair, 

With  such,  what  mortal  can  be  richer? 
Give  me  but  these — a  fig  for  care, 

With  my  sweet  girl,  my  friend  and  pitcher. 

From  morning  sun  I  *d  never  grieve, 

To  toil  a  hedger  or  a  ditcher, 
If  that,  when  I  come  home  at  eve; 

I  might  enjoy  my  friend  and  pitcher. 
My  friend  so  rare,  &c. 

Though  fortune  ever  shuns  my  door, 
I  do  not  know  what  can  bewitch  her; 


SONG    BOOK.  169 

With  all  my  heart  can  I  be  poor, 

With  my  sweet  girl,  my  friend  and  pitcher. 
My  friend  so  rare,  &c. 

THE  SMILE  OF  COi\TEISTTMENT 
AND  LOVE. 

Oh!  dear  is  my  cottage,  unclouded  by  sorrow, 
And  sweet  is  the  bower  my  Emeline  wove; 

Ah!  nought  from  the  gay  or  the  wealthy  I'd 

borrow,  [ment  and  love. 

While  blessed  with  the  smile  of  content- 

The  mirth  of  my  children,  their  playful 
caresses, 
Unceasing  delight  to  a  parent  must  prove; 
Then  talk  not  of  him  who  more  splendor  pos- 
sesses, [love. 
My  wealth  is  the  smile  of  contentment  and 

The  morning  awakens  to  health  and  to  labor, 
The  lark  points  to  Heaven  as  first  to  be 
praised;  [neighbor, 

The  evening  procures  me  my  friend  and  my 
To  join  in  the  tribute  by  gratitude  raised. 

And  while  with  such  music  re-echoes  my 
dwelling, 
While  harmony  still  lingers  over  the  grove, 
I  Oh!  if  there's  a  bliss  such  enjoyment  excelling, 
It  beams  in  the  smile  of  contentment  and 
love. 


170  jack  downing's 


KATE  KEARNEY. 

Oh!  did  you  ne'er  hear  of  Kate  Kearney, 
She  lives  on  the  banks  of  Killarney; 

From  the  glance  of  her  eye,  shun  danger 
and  fly, 
For  fatal 's  the  glance  of  Kate  Kearney. 

For  that  eye  is  so  modestly  beaming, 

You  ne'er  think  of  mischief  she  's  dreaming; 

Yet,  Oh!  I  can  tell,  how  fatal  the  spell, 
That  lurks  in  the  eye  of  Kate  Kearney. 

Oh,  should  you  e'er  meet  this  Kate  Kearney, 
Who  lives  on  the  banks  of  Killarney, 

Beware  of  her  smile — for  many  a  wile, 
Lies  hid  in  the  smile  of  Kate  Kearney. 

WILLIAM  TELL.  j 

When  William  Tell  was  doomed  to  die, 

Or  hit  the  mark  upon  his  infant's  head, 
The  bell  tolled  out,  the  hour  was  nigh, 

And  soldiers  marched  with  grief  and  dread! 
The  warrior  came,  serene  and  mild, 

Gazed  all  around  with  dauntless  look, 
Till  the  fond  boy  unconscious  smiled; 

Then  nature  and  the  father  spoke. 
And  now,  each  valiant  Swiss  his  grief  partakes, 

For  they  sigh,  and  wildly  cry, 
Poor  William  Tell!  once  hero  of  the  lakes. 


SONG    BOOK.  171 

But  soon  is  heard  the  muffled  drum, 

And  straight  the  pointed  arrow  rlies, 
The  trembling  boy  expects  his  doom, 

All,  all  shriek  out — ■  he  dies!  he  dies!' 
When  lo!  the  lofty  trumpet  sounds! 

The  mark  is  hit!  the  child  is  free! 
Into  his  father's  arms  he  bounds, 

Inspired  by  love  and  liberty! 
And  now  each  valiant  Swiss  their  joy  partakes, 

For  mountains  ring,  whilst  they  sing, 
Live,  William  Tell!  the  hero  of  the  lakes. 

SWISS  BOY. 

Come,  arouse  thee,  arouse  thee,  my  brave 

Swiss  boy, 
Take  thy  pail  and  to  labor  away! 
The  sun  is  up  with  ruddy  beam; 
The  kine  are  thronging  to  the  stream. 
Come,  arouse  thee,  &c. 

\m  not  I,  am  not  I,  say,  a  merry  Swiss  boy, 
When  I  hie  to  the  mountains  away! 
or  there  a  shepherd  maiden  dear, 
Waits  my  song  with  listening  ear. 
Am  not  I,  &c. 

Then  at  night!  then  at  night — Oh!  a  gay 
Swiss  bov ! 
'm  away  to  my  comrades,  away! 
?he  cup  we  fill — the  wine  is  passed 
friendship  round,  until  at  last, 


172  jack  downing's 

With  good  night!  and  good  night!  goes  the 

happy  Swiss  boy 
To  his  home  and  his  slumbers,  away. 

THE  HARPER'S  SONG. 

Summer  eve  is  gone  and  past, 
Summer  dew  is  falling  fast; 
I  have  wandered  all  the  day, 
Do  not  bid  me  farther  stray ; 
Gentle  hearts  of  gentle  kin, 
Let  the  wand'ring  harper  in, 

Bid  not  me  in  battle-field, 
Buckler  lift,  or  broad-sword  wield ; 
All  my  strength  and  all  my  art, 
Is  to  touch  the  gentle  heart, 
With  the  wizard  notes  that  ring 
From  the  peaceful  minstrel  string. 

I  have  song  of  war  for  knight, 
Lay  of  love  for  lady  bright; 
Fairy  tale  to  lull  the  ear, 
Goblin  grim  the  maids  to  scare; 
Dark  the  night,  and  long  till  day, 
Do  not  bid  me  farther  stray. 

BANKS  OF  ALLAN  WATER. 

On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water, 

When  the  sweet  spring  time  did  fall, 

Was  the  miller's  lovely  daughter, 
The  fairest  of  them  all. 


SONG   BOOK.  173 

For  his  bride  a  soldier  sought  her, 
And  a  winning  tongue  had  he, 

On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water, 
None  was  so  gay  as  she. 

On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water, 

When  brown  autumn  spreads  its  store, 
Then  I  saw  the  miller's  daughter, 

But  she  smiled  no  more: 
For  the  summer  grief  had  brought  her, 

And  the  soldier  false  was  he, 
On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water, 

None  was  so  sad  as  she. 

On  the  banks  of  Allan  W%ter, 

When  the  winter  snow  fell  fast, 
Still  was  seen  the  miller's  daughter, 

Chilling  blew  the  blast. 
But  the  miller's  lovely  daughter, 

Both  from  cold  and  care  was  free, 
On  the  banks  of  Allan  Water, 

There  a  corpse  lay  she. 

IERE  WE  MEET  TOO  SOON  TO  PART. 

Here  we  meet,  too  soon  to  part, 
Here  to  leave  will  raise  a  smart, 
Here  I  '11  press  thee  to  my  heart, 

Where  none  have  place  above  thee; 
Here  I  vow  to  love  thee  well ; 
Could  but  words  unseal  the  spell, 


/I 


174  jack  downing's 

Had  I  but  language,  strength  to  tell, 
I  }d  say  how  much  I  love  thee. 

Here  the  rose  that  decks  the  door, 
Here  the  thorn  that  spreads  thy  bower, 
Here  the  willow  on  the  moor, 

The  birds  at  rest  above  thee; 
Had  they  light  of  life  to  see, 
Sense  of  soul,  like  thee  and  me, 
Soon  might  each  a  witness  be, 

How  doatingly  I  love  thee. 

YES,  I  WILL  LEAVE  THE  FESTIVE 

SCEJNE. 

(9 

Yes,  I  will  leave  the  festive  scene, 

The  gay  and  courtly  throng, 
To  wander  through  the  forest  green, 

And  listen  to  thy  song. 
The  waters  like  a  mirror  seem 

For  every  beaming  star; 
Then  haste  to  yonder  silent  stream, 

And  strike  the  light  guitar. 

And  when  thou  tell'st  of  one,  whose  tears 

Were  shed  for  her  true  knight, 
Bethink  thee  of  thy  maiden's  fears, 

When  thou  wert  in  the  fight; 
No  longer  brave  the  battle  plain, 

Nor  roam  from  me  afar; 
But  sing  hope's  long  forgotten  strain, 

And  strike  the  light  guitar. 


SONG   BOOK.  175 


O  SAW  YE  THE  LASS  WV  THE 
BONNIE  BLUE  EEN. 

0  saw  ye  the  lass  vvi'  the  bonnie  blue  een? 
Her  smile  is  the  sweetest  that  ever  was  seen; 
Her  cheek  like  the  rose  is,  but  fresher,  I  ween; 
She's  the  loveliest  lassie  that  trips  on  the  green. 
The  home  of  my  love  is  below  in  the  valley, 
Where  wild  flowers  welcome  the  wandering 

bee;  [is  seen, 

But  the  sweetest  of  flowers  in  that  spot  that 
Is  the  maid  that  I  love,  wi'  the  bonnie  blue  een. 

AVhen  night  overshadows  her  cot  in  the  glen, 
She  '11  steal  out  to  meet  loved  Donald  again; 
And  when  the  moon  shines  on  the    alley  so 
green, 

1  '11  welcome  the  lass  wi'  the  bonnie  blue  een. 
As  the  dove  that  has  wandered  away  from 

his  nest,  [best, 

Returns  to  the  mate  his  fond  heart  loves  the 
I  '11  fly  from  the  world's  false  and  vanishing 

scene,  [een. 

To  my  dear  one,  the  lass  wi'  the  bonnie  blue 

MEET  ME  BY  MOONLIGHT. 

Meet  me  by  moonlight  alone, 

And  then  I  will  tell  you  a  tale, 
Must  be  told  by  the  moonlight  alone, 

In  the  grove  at  the  end  of  the  vale; 


176  jack  downing's 

You  must  promise  to  come,  for  I  said 

I  would  show  the  night  flowers  their  queen. 

Nay,  turn  not  away  thy  sweet  head, 
'T  is  the  loveliest  ever  was  seen. 

Oh!  meet  me  by  moonlight  alone. 

Daylight  may  do  for  the  gay, 

The  thoughtless,  the  heartless,  the  free; 
But  there  's  something  about  the  moon's  ray, 

That  is  sweeter  to  you  and  to  me. 
Oh!  remember,  be  sure  to  be  there, 

For  though  dearly  a  moonlight  I  prize, 
I  care  not  for  all  in  the  air, 

If  I  want  the  sweet  light  of  your  eyes. 
So  meet  me  by  moonlight  alone. 

ANSWER 

Meet  you  by  moonlight?     Oh,  no! 

I  really  can't  do  such  a  thing — 
For  scandal,  you  very  well  know, 

Is  ever  too  swift  on  the  wing; 

.'.  exceedingly  subject  to  cold, 

And  I  can't  be  looking  my  best, 
If  while  to  you  my  heart  I  unfold, 

I  should  chance  on  a  pain  in  my  chest! 

Daylight  will  fully  avail 

For  all  that  you  now  have  to  tell; 
And  so  you  can  whisper  the  tale 

After  luncheon,  it  strikes  me,  as  well; 


SONG   BOOK.  177 

Oh!  be  sure  and  not  ask  me  again, 

For  though  dearly  your  flatteries  I  prize, 

I  am  really  obliged  to  refrain, 

They  say  it 's  so  bad  for  the  eyes! 

AND  CAN'ST  THOU  BID  MY  HEART 

FORGET  ? 

And  can'st  thou  bid  my  heart  forget, 

What  once  it  loved  so  well; 
That  look,  that  smile  when  first  we  met, 

That  last,  that  sad  farewell? 
Ah,  no!  by  every  pang  I  've  proved, 

By  every  fond  regret; 
I  feel  that  I  no  more  am  loved, 

I  never  can  forget. 

Could  I  but  see  that  face  again, 

Although  't  were  changed  to  me, 
It  would  not  be  such  mad'ning  pain, 

As  ne'er  to  look  on  thee; 
But,  oh!  'twas  torture  to  my  breast, 

To  meet  thine  altered  eye, 
To  see  thee  smile  on  all  the  rest, 

Yet  coldly  pass  me  by. 

THE  BLACKBIRD. 

'T  was  on  a  bank  of  daisies  sweet, 

A  lovely  maiden  sighed; 

The  little  lambs  played  at  her  feet, 

While  she  in  sorrow  cried — 
11 


178  jack  downing' s 

1  Where  is  my  love,  where  can  he  stray?' 

When  thus  a  blackbird  sung — 
1  Sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  he  will  not  stay.' 

The  air  with  music  rung. 

*  Ah,  mock  me  not,  bold  bird,'  she  said, 

*  And  why,  pray,  tarry  here? 
Dost  thou  bemoan  some  youngling  fled, 

Or  hast  thou  lost  thy  dear? 
Dost  thou  lament  his  absence?  say!' 

Again  the  blackbird  sung, 
c  Sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  he  will  not  stay.' 

The  air  with  music  rung. 

8  Sing  on,  she  cried,  thou  charming  bird, 

Those  dulcet  notes  repeat; 
No  music  e'er  like  thine  was  heard, 

So  truly  sweet,  sweet,  sweet. 
Oh,  that  my  love  were  here  to-day;' 

Once  more  the  blackbird  sung, 
8  Sweet,  sweet,  sweet,  he  comes  this  way.' 

The  air  with  music  rung. 

WAKE!  DEAREST,  WAKE!  i 

Wake! "dearest,  wake!  and  again  united, 

We'll  rove  by  yonder  sea; 
And  where  our  first  vows  of  love  were  plighted, 

Our  last  farewell  shall  be. 
There  oft  I  've  gazed  on  thy  smiles  delighted, 

And  there  I  '11  part  from  thee. 


SONG   BOOK.  179 

Isabel!  Isabel!  Isabel! 
One  look,  though  that  look  be  in  sorrow, 
Fore-thee-well,  fare-thee-well,fare-thee-well! 
Far  hence  shall  I  wander  to-morrow. 

Dark  is  my  doom,  and  from  thee  I  sever, 

Whom  I  have  loved  alone; 
'T  were  cruel  to  link  thy  fate  for  ever, 

With  sorrows  like  my  own. 
Go  smile  on  livelier  friends,  and  never 

Lament  me  when  I  'm  gone. 
Isabel,  &c. 

And  when  at  length  in  these  lonely  bowers, 
Some  happier  youth  you  see,         [flowers, 

And  you  cull  for  him  spring's  sweetest 

And  he  sings  of  love  to  thee;  [hours, 

When  you  laugh  with  him  at  these  vanquished 
Oh!  tell  him  to  love  like  me. 
Isabel,  &c. 

RICH  AND  RARE. 

Rich  and  rare  were  the  gems  she  wore, 
And  a  bright  gold  ring  on  her  hand  she  bore; 
But  oh!  her  beauty  was  far  beyond 
Sparkling  gems  and  snow-white  hand. 

Lady,  dost  not  thou  fear  to  stray, 
■So  lone  and  lovely  through  this  bleak  way? 
\.re  Erin's  sons  so  good  or  so  cold 
Vs  not  to  be  tempted  by  woman  or  gold?' 


180  jack  downing' s 

4  Sir  knight!  I  feel  not  the  least  alarm; 
No  son  of  Erin  will  offer  me  harm; 
For  though  they  love  woman  and  golden  store 
Sir  knight,  they  love  honor  and  virtue  more. 

On  she  went,  and  her  maiden  smile 
In  safety  lighted  her  through  the  green  isle, 
And  blessed  for  ever  is  she  who  relied 
On  Erin's  honor  and  Erin's  pride. 

THE  ECHO  DUET. 

Now  hope  and  fear  my  bosom  rending, 

Alternate  bid  each  other  cease; 
Soon  shall  death,  my  terrors  ending, 

Calm  each  transient  thought  to  peace. 
Hark!  a  murm'ring  sound  repeating 

Ev'ry  stifled  sigh  I  hear; 
What  can  set  this  bosom  beating? 

Alas!  'tis  mingled  hope  and  fear. 
Now  they  cease  this  way  retiring, 

And  all  is  awful  silence  round. 


Ah!  sure  those  notes,  dear  maid,  werethim 
The  echoing  sounds  alone  were  mine; 

'T  is  her  voice  that  meets  my  ear; 

Say,  where  art  thou,  whose  voice  I  hear: 

Oh!  quickly  speak,  no  longer  roam, 

To  give  thee  liberty  I  come. 

Soft,  love,  5t  is  I;  relief  is  near; 

Where  art  thou  now?  I  am  here. 


SONG    BOOK.  181 

This  way  advance,  and  you  are  free; 
This  way  to  light  and  liberty. 

THE  ECHO  SONG. 

In  that  cottage  my  father  long  dwelt, 
Till  called  the  proud  foe  to  repel, 

With  a  heart  that  each  keen  passion  felt, 
He  bade  his  companions  farewell; 

While  in  distance  he  echoed  the  sound, 
A  sound  I  shall  ever  deplore — 
Alas!  I  shall  ne'er  see  him  more! 
Farewell!  farewell! 

Shouts  of  victory  honored  the  day, 

When  bravely  in  battle  he  fell, 
Far,  far  from  his  village  away, 

Where  he  bade  his  companions  farewell; 
While  in  distance  he  echoed  the  sound, 
Farewell!  farewell! 

EVELEEN'S  BOWER. 

Oh!  weep  for  the  hour, 

When  to  Eveleen's  bower, 
The  lord  of  the  valley  with  false  vows  came; 

The  moon  had  hid  her  light 

From  the  heavens  that  night,       [shame. 
A.nd  wept  behind  the  clouds  o'er  the  maiden's 

The  clouds  passed  soon 
From  the  chaste  cold  moon,         [flame; 
Vnd    heaven   smiled   again  with   her  vestal 


182  jack  downing's 

But  none  will  see  the  day 
When  the  clouds  shall  pass  away, 
Which  that  dark  hour  left  upon  Eveleen's  fame. 

The  white  snow  lay 

On  the  narrow  path-way,  [moor; 

Where  the  lord  of  the  valley  crossed  over  the 

And  many  a  deep  print 

On  the  white  snow's  tint,  [door. 

Showed  the  track  of  his  footstep  to  Eveleen's 

The  next  sun's  ray 

Soon  melted  away  [came; 

Every  trace  on  the  path  where  the  false  lord 

But  there  's  a  light  above, 

Which  alone  can  remove  [fame. 

That  stain  upon  the  snow  of  fair  Eveleen's 

YOU  DON'T  EXACTLY  SUIT  ME. 

A  youth  to  me  a  wooing  came, 

For  pity  did  implore  me; 
And  hoped  I  ne'er  could  slight  or  blame, 

The  lad  that  must  adore  me. 
I  liked  him  much,  and  hid  my  plan, 

To  see  how  he  'd  repute  me; 
So  frowning,  cried,  do  n't  tease,  young  man, 

You  do  n't  exactlv  suit  me. 

He  seemed  confounded,  vexed,  he  stared, 
Then  vowed  he  'd  ne'er  deceive  me; 


SONG   BOOK.  183 

Says  I,  your  presence  can  be  spared, 
If  you  please,  sir,  you  may  leave  me. 

To  leave  you,  love,  I  never  can, 
I  swear  by  all  your  beauty; 

Now  pray,  says  1,  do  n't  tease,  young  man, 
You  do  n't  exactly  suit  me. 

He  started,  sighed,  hung  down  his  head, 

Which  proved  I  'd  fairly  caught  him; 
O,  haste,  my  love,  to  church,  he  said; 

You  see  to  what  1  'd  brought  him. 
Dear  sir,  said  I,  if  that  's  my  fate, 

To  wed  's  a  woman's  duty; 
|  Let 's  fly,  or  we  shall  be  too  late; 

You  now  exactlv  suit  me. 

TYROLESE  SONG  OF  LIBERTY. 

Merrily  every  bosom  boundeth, 

Merrily  oh!  merrily  oh! 
Where  the  song  of  freedom  soundeth, 

Merrily  oh!  merrily  oh! 
Where  the  song  of  freedom  soundeth, 
Merrily  oh!  merrily  oh! 
There  the  warrior's  arms  shed  more  splendor: 
There  the  maiden's  charms  shine  more  tender: 
Every  joy  the  land  surroundeth, 

Merrily  oh!  merrily  oh! 
Merrily,  merrily,  merrily,  merrily,  merrily, 
merrily  oh! 

Merrily  oh!  merrily  oh! 


184  jack  downing's 

Wearily  every  bosom  pineth, 

Wearily  oh!  wearily  oh! 
Where  the  bond  of  slavery  twineth, 
Wearily  oh!  wearily  oh! 
There  the  warrior's  dart  hath  no  fleetness; 
There  the  maiden's  heart  hath  no  sweetness; 
Every  flower  of  life  declineth, 

Wearily  oh!  wearily  oh! 
Wearily,  wearily,  &c. 

Cheerily  then  from  hill  and  valley, 

Cheerily  oh!  cheerily  oh! 
Like  your  native  fountains  sally, 

Cheerily  oh!  cheerily  oh! 
If  a  glorious  death,  won  by  bravery, 
Sweeter  be  than  breath  sighed  in  slavery; 
Round  the  flag  of  freedom  rally, 

Cheerily  oh!  cheerily  oh! 
Cheerily,  cheerily,  &c. 

THE  BONNY  BOAT. 

O,  swiftly  glides  the  bonny  boat, 

Just  parted  from  the  shore. 
And  to  the  fisher's  chorus  note 

Soft  moves  the  dipping  oar. 
Their  toils  are  born  with  hardy  cheer, 

And  ever  may  they  speed, 
To  feeble  age  and  helpmate  dear, 

And  tender  bairnies  feed. 
We  '11  cast  our  lines  in  Largo  bay, 

Our  nets  are  floating  wide, 


SONG   BOOK.  185 

The  bonny  boat  with  yielding  sway    '     ~3 

Rocks  lightly  on  the  tide. 
And  happy  prove  our  daily  lot 

Upon  the  summer  sea, 
And  blest  on  land  the  kindly  cot 

Where  all  our  treasures  be. 

The  mermaid  on  the  rock  may  sing, 

The  witch  may  weave  her  charms, 
No  water  sprite  or  eldrich  thing 

The  bonny  boat  can  harm. 
She  safely  bears  the  scaly  store, 

Through  many  a  stormy  gale, 
While  joyous  shouts  rise  from  the  shore, 

Her  homeward  prow  to  hail. 

We  '11  cast  our  lines,  &c. 

The  aged  matron  casts  her  eye 

Upon  the  troubled  deep, 
The  anxious  dame  looks  wistfully, 

The  careless  bairnies  sleep. 
The  broad  red  sun  has  set  in  blood, 

The  sea-birds  sadly  wail, 
The  lightning's  flash  and  driving  scud 

Bespeak  the  coming  gale. 

We  '11  cast  our  lines,  &c. 

The  storm  burst  out,  the  signal  light 

Gleams  from  the  little  cot; 
O  'er  briny  billows,  foaming  bright, 

Fast  bounds  the  bonny  boat. 


186  jack  downing' s 

They  double  Largo's  headland  wide, 

And  shoot  across  the  bay, 
Till  in  the  cove  they  safely  ride, 

Though  gunwale  deep  in  spray. 

We  '11  cast  our  lines,  &c.   - 

The  well  known  shout  of  safety  rings 

From  out  the  echoing  cove, 
The  speechless  mother  swiftly  springs 

To  him  whose  voice  is  love. 
The  tale  is  told  to  greedy  ears, 

Of  perils  and  alarms, 
But  soon  the  dame  forgets  her  fears, 

Within  her  husband's  arms. 

We  '11  cast  our  lines,  &c. 

IRELAND. 

Oh!  Ireland,  my  country!  the  hour 
Of  thy  pride  and  thy  splendor  has  passed; 

And  the  chain  which  was  spurned  in  thy  mo- 
ment of  power, 
Hangs  heavy  around  thee  at  last. 

There  are  marks  in  the  fate  of  each  clime; 

There  are  turns  in  the  fortunes  of  men; 
But  the  changes  of  realms,  or  the  chances  of 
time, 

Shall  never  restore  thee  again. 

Thou  art  chained  to  the  wheel  of  the  foe, 
By  links  which  the  world  shall  not  sever; 


SONG   BOOK.  187 

With  thy  tyrants  through  storm  and  through 
calm  thou  shalt  go, 
And  thy  sentence  is  bondage  forever. 

Thou  art  doomed  for  the  thankless  to  toil; 

Thou  art  left  for  the  proud  to  disdain; 
And  the  blood  of  thy  sons,  and  the  wealth  of 
thy  soil, 

Shall  be  wasted — and  wasted  in  vain. 

Thy  riches  with  taunts  shall  be  taken; 

Thy  valor  with  coldness  repaid; 
And  of  millions  who  see  thee  thus  sunk  and 
forsaken, 

Not  one  shall  stand  forth  to  thine  aid. 

In  the  nations  thy  place  is  left  void; 

Thou  art  lost  in  the  list  of  the  free; 
Even  realms  by  the  plague  and  the  earthquake 
destroyed, 

May  revive — but  no  hope  is  for  thee. 

I  LOVE  MY  JEAN. 

Of  a'  the  airs  the  wind  can  blaw, 

I  dearly  like  the  west, 
For  there  the  bonnie  lassie  lives, 

The  lassie  I  lo'e  best: 
There  wild-woods  grow,  and  rivers  flow, 

And  mony  a  hill  between; 
But  day  and  night  my  fancy's  flight 

Is  ever  wi'  my  Jean. 


188  jack  downing's 

I  see  her  in  the  dewy  flowers, 

I  see  her  sweet  and  fair; 
I  hear  her  in  the  tunefu'  birds, 

I  hear  her  charm  the  air; 
There  's  not  a  bonnie  flower  that  springs, 

By  fountain,  shaw,  or  green, 
There  5s  not  a  bonnie  flower  that  springs, 

But  'minds  me  o5  my  Jean. 

0  blaw  ye  westlin  winds,  blaw  saft 
Amang  the  leafy  trees; 

Wi'  gentle  breath  frae  muir  an'  dale. 

Bring  hame  the  laden  bees: 
And  bring  the  lassie  back  to  me, 

That  's  aye  sae  neat  an'  clean; 
Ae  blink  o'  her  would  banish  care, 

Sae  charming  is  my  Jean. 

1  see  her  in  the  glassy  stream 
That  winds  along  the  vale, 

I  hear  her  in  sweet  echo's  voice 

That  dies  along  the  gale; 
I  '11  love  her  while  a  vital  spark 

Shall  shed  its  latest  gleam; 
Gay  nature's  charms  would  soon  depart 

If  't  were  na  for  ray  Jean. 

SANDY  AND  JEANIE. 

Come,  come,  bonnie  lassie,  cried  Sandy,  awa, 
Whilst  mither  is  spinning,  and  father  's  afa'; 


I 


SONG   BOOK.  189 

The  folks  are  at  work,  and  the  bairns  are  at 

play; 
And  we  will  be  married,  dear  Jeanie,  to-day. 

Stay,  stay,  bonnie  laddie,  then  cried  I  with 

speed, 
I  wo'na,  I  ma'na  go  with  you,  indeed; 
Besides,  should  I  do  so,  what  would  the  folks 

say, 
So  we  canna  marry,  dear  Sandy,  to-day. 

List,  list,  bonnie  lassie,  and  mind  what  you  do, 
For  Peggy  and  Patty  I  give  up  for  you; 
Besides,  a  full  twelve  month  we've  trifled 

away, 
And  one  or  the  other  I  '11  marry  to-day. 

Fie,  fie,  bonny  laddie,  then  cried  I  again, 
For  Peggy  you  kissed  t'  other  day  on  the  plain ; 
Besides,  a  new  ribbon  does  Patty  display; 
And  we  canna  marry,  dear  Sandy,  to-day. 

O,  then,  a  good-bye,  bonnie  lassie  cried  he, 
For  Peggy  and  Patty  are  waiting  for  me; 
The  kirk  is  hard  by,  and  the  bell  calls  away, 
And  Peggy  or  Patty  I  '11  marry  to-day. 

Stay,  stay,  bonny  laddie,  cried  I  with  a  smile, 
For,  know  1  was  jesting,  indeed,  all  the  while; 
Let  Peggy  go  spin,  and  send  Patty  away, 
And  we  will  be  married,  dear  Sandy,  to-day. 


190  jack  downing' s 


AS  DERMOT  TOILED. 

As  Dermot  toiled  one  summer  day, 

Young  Shela,  as  she  sat  behind  him, 
Fairly  stole  his  pipe  away, 

Oh,  then  to  hear  how  she  'd  deride  him. 
'  Where,  poor  Dermot,  is  it  gone, 

Your  lily,  lily  loodle, 
They  've  left  you  nothing  but  the  drone, 

And  that 's  you  yourself  you  noodle.' 
Beum  bum  boodle,  loodle,  loo, 
Poor  Dermot's  pipe  is  lost  and  gone, 
And  what  will  the  poor  devil  do? 

c  Fait  now  I  am  undone  and  more,' 

Cried  Dermot,  ■  ah,  will  you  be  aisy, 
Did  you  not  steal  my  heart  before? 

Is  it  you  'd  have  a  man  run  crazy? 
I've  nothing  left  me  now  to  moan, 

My  lily,  lily  loodle 
That  used  to  cheer  me  so,  is  gone; 

Ah,  Dermot,  thou  'rt  a  noodle. 
Beum  bum  boodle,  loodle,  loo, 
My  heart,  and  pipe,  and  peace  are  gone, 
What  next  will  cruel  Shela  do?' 

But  Shela  hearing  Dermot  vex, 

Cried  she  't  was  little  Cupid  moved  me. 
Ye  fool,  to  steal  it  out  of  tricks, 

Only  to  see  how  much  you  loved  me. 


SONG    BOOK.  191 

Come,  cheer  thee,  Dermot,  never  mourn, 

But  take  your  lily  loodle, 
And  for  the  heart  of  you  that  's  gone, 
You  shall  have  mine,  you  noodle. 
Beum  bum  boodle,  loodle  loo, 
Shela's  to  church  with  Dermot  gone, 

And  for  the  rest — what  's  that  to  you? 

MISTER  PO. 

Mister  Po  was  a  man  of  great  riches  and 

fame,  [name. 

And  I  loved  him  I  own,  but  I  liked  not  his 

When  he  asked  me  to  wed,  in  a  pet  I  said 

4  No,  [Mister  Po.' 

I  shall  ne'er  marry  you,  I  'm  resolved, 

How  shocking  it  would  be  to  hear  the  little 
boys  and  girls  of  the  village  cry 

Mister  Po,  Mistress  Po,  GatTer  Po,  Goody 

Po—  [Mister  Po. 

Oh!  I  '11  ne'er  marry  you,  I  'm  resolved, 

In  a  passion  he  flew,  and  cruelly  said, 

*  From  my  heart  do  I  wish  you  may  die  an 

old  maid.  [answer  is  no, 

1  You  may  wish  what  you  please,  still  my 
I  shall  ne'er  marry  you,  I  'm   resolved,  Mr. 

Po.' 

How  ridiculous  it  would   be  at  a  ball  or  a 
party,  to  hear  the  company  whisper,  that 's 


192  jack  downing's 

Mister  Po,  Mistress  Po,  Gaffer  Po,  Goody 

Po—  [Mistress  Po. 

Oh!  I  '11  never  marry  you,  and  be  ealled 

Thus  I  said  and  I  thought,  about  twenty 

years  ago, 
And  refused  the  kind  offer  of  sweet  Mister  Po; 
But  I  'm  sure  now,  I  think,  I  was  greatly  to 

blame, 
To  refuse  a  good  man  on  account  of  his  name. 

Well,  really  I  don't  think  the  name  so 
frightful,  neither;  and  indeed,  I  'd  give  all 
the  world  to  hear  the  little  boys  and  girls  of 
the  village  cry — 

Mister  Po,  Mistress  Po,  neighbor  Po,  cousin 

Po— 
Oh!  I  wish  I  had  wed  the  gallant  Mister  Po. 

O  LASSIE  ART  THOU  SLEEPING  YET? 

O  lassie,  art  thou  sleeping  yet, 
Or  art  thou  wakin'  I  would  wit? 
For  love  has  bound  me  hand  and  foot, 
And  I  would  fain  be  in,  jo. 
O  let  me  in  this  ae  night, 
This  ae,  ae,  ae  night; 
For  pity's  sake  this  ae  night, 
O  rise  and  let  me  in  jo. 

Thou  hear'st  the  winter  wind  and  weet, 
Nae  star  blinks  through  the  driving  sleet; 


SONG    BOOK.  193 

Tak'  pity  on  my  weary  feet, 
And  shield  me  frae  the  rain,  jo. 
O  let  me  in,  &c. 

The  bitter  blast  that  round  me  blavvs, 
Unheeded  howls,  unheeded  fa's; 
The  cauldness  of  thy  heart  's  the  cause 
Of  a'  my  grief  and  pain,  jo. 

0  let  me  in,  &c. 

ANSWER. 

O  tell  na  me  o'  wind  and  rain; 
Upbraid  na  me  with  cauld  disdain; 
Gae  back  the  gate  ye  cam'  again; 
I  winna  let  you  in,  jo. 

I  tell  you  now  this  ae  night, 

This  ae,  ae,  ae  night; 

And  ance  for  a5  this  ae  night, 

1  winna  let  ye  in,  jo. 

The  snellest  blast,  at  mirkest  hours, 
Thafround  the  pathless  wand'rer  pours, 
Is  nocht  to  what  poor  she  endures, 
That  's  trusted  faithless  man,  jo. 
I  tell  you  now,  &c. 

The  sweetest  flower  that  decked  the  mead, 
Now  trodden  like  the  vilest  weed, 
Let  simple  maid  the  lesson  read; 
The  weird  may  be  her  ain,  jo. 
I  tell  you  now,  &c. 
13 


194  jack  downing's 

The  bird  that  charmed  his  summer-day, 
Is  now  the  cruel  fowler's  prey ; 
Let  witless,  trusting  woman  say 
How  aft  her  fate  's  the  same,  jo. 
I  tell  you  now,  &c. 

WASHING  DAY. 

The  sky  with  clouds  was  overcast, 

The  rain  began  to  fall, 
My  wife  she  whipped  the  children, 

Who  raised  a  pretty  squall. 
She  bade  me  with  a  frowning  look, 

To  get  out  of  her  way; 
Oh!  the  deuce  a  bit  of  comfort  's  here, 
Upon  a  washing  day ! 
For  Jt  is  thump,  thump,  scrub,  scrub,  scold, 
scold  away,  [washing  day. 

Oh  the  deuce  a  bit  of  comfort  's  here,  upon  a 

My  Kate  she  is  a  bonny  wife, 

There  's  none  so  free  from  evil, 
Unless  upon  a  washing  day, 

And  then  she  is  the  devil! 
The  very  kittens  on  the  hearth, 

They  dare  not  even  play; 
Away  they  jump,  with  many  a  bump, 

Upon  the  washing  day ! 

For  5t  is  thump,  thump,  &c. 

I  met  a  friend,  who  asked  of  me, 
How  long  's  poor  Kate  been  dead? 


SONG  BOOK.  195 

Lamenting  the  good  creature  gone, 

And  sorry  I  was  wed 
To  such  a  scolding  vixen,  while 

He  had  been  far  away ! 
The  truth  it  was,  he  chanced  to  come 

Upon  a  washing  day; 

When  't  is  thump,  thump,  &c. 

I  asked  him  then  to  come  and  dine — 

1  Come,  come,'  quoth  I,  'vOds  buds! 
I  '11  no  denial  take,  you  must, 

Though  Kate  be  in  the  suds!' 
But  what  we  had  to  dine  upon, 

In  truth  I  dare  not  say; 
But  I  think  he  '11  never  come  again 

Upon  a  washing  day; 

When  't  is  thump,  thump,  &c. 

On  that  sad  morning  when  I  rise, 

I  put  a  fervent  prayer 
To  all  the  gods,  that  it  may  be 

Throughout  the  day  quite  fair! 
That  not  a  cap  or  handkerchief  . 

May  in  the  ditch  be  laid — 
For  should  it  happen  so,  egad, 

I  get  a  broken  head! 

For  't  is  thump,  thump,  &c. 

DULL  CARE. 

Why  should  we  at  our  lot  complain, 
Or  grieve    I  our  distress? 


196  jack  downing' s 

Some  think  if  they  could  riches  gain, 

They  'd  gain  true  happiness; 
Alas!  how  vain  is  all  their  gain! 

This  life  will  soon  decay; 
Then  whilst  we  're  here  with  friends  so  dear. 

Let 's  drive  dull  care  away. 

The  only  circumstance  in  life, 

That  ever  I  could  find, 
To  soften  care  or  temper  strife, 

Was  a  contented  mind; 
Having  that  store,  we  have  much  more 

Than  wealth  could  e'er  convey; 
And  whilst  we  're  here  with  friends  so  dear, 

We  '11  drive  dull  care  away. 

Why  should  the  rich  despise  the  poor? 

Why  should  the  poor  repine?     I 
We  all  will  in  a  few  years  more, 

In  equal  friendship  join. 
We  're  much  to  blame,  we  're  all  the  same, 

Alike  we  're  made  of  clay, 
So  whilst  we  're  here  with  friends  so  dear, 

Let  's  drive  dull  care  away. 

Let  's  make  the  best  we  can  of  life, 

Nor  render  it  a  curse ; 
But  take  it,  as  you  would  a  wife, 

For  better  or  for  worse. 
Life  at  the  best  is  but  a  jest, 

A  dreary  winter's  day. 


SONG    BOOK.  197 

So, whilst  we  're  here  with  friends  so  dear. 
We  '11  drive  dull  care  away. 

Decline  of  life,  old  age  comes  on, 

And  we  are  young  no  more — 
Let  's  not  repine  at  what  we  've  done, 

Nor  grieve  that  youth  is  o'er; 
But  cheerful  be,  as  formerly, 

And  innocently  gay. 
And  whilst  we  're  here  with  friends  so  dear, 

Let  's  drive  dull  care  away. 


THE  WANDERING  HARPER. 

Oh!  many  a  mountain  I  wearily  measure, 
As  far  have  I  wandered  on  Erin's  green 
shore; 

This  harp  is  my  only  companion  and  treasure, 
When  welcomed  at  sweet  hospitality's  door. 

Then  list,  gentle  youths,  whilst  I  sing  you  a 
ditty,  [birth; 

I  learnt  in  dear  Connaugh,  the  soil  of  my 
Ye  maidens  attend,  whilst  the  dear  drop  of  pity 

Shall  fall  like  a  crystalline  gem  to  the  earth. 

The  sun  in  the  wave  dipt  his  lingering  ray, 
And  dew-dropping  skies  wept  the  absence  of 
day,  [fray. 

W  hen  sunk  on  trie  ear  were  the  sounds  of  the 


198  jack  do  wring's 

'T  was  then  o'er  the  heath  flew  the  white- 
bosomed  fair,  [hair, 
All  loose  on  the  swelling  breeze  floated  her 
And  the  dark-rolling  gaze  spoke  the  soul  of 
despair. 

No  tear  left  her  eye,  nor  no  sigh  'scaped  her 

breast, 
While  round  her  lay  many  a  hero  at  rest. 
And  the  blooji-glutted  raven  retired  from  his 

feast.  * 

How  weak  was  his  groan,  as  it  passed  by  hi 

ear;  [was  near, 

How  low  drooped  his  head;  the  sad  moment 
As  'neath  an  old  oak  lay  the  warrior  so  dear. 

She  shrieked  his  loved  name  as  she  sprung 

o'er  the  heath; 
All  cold  on  her  lip  she  received  his  last  breath; 
And  clasped  her  soul's  idol,  but  clasped  him 

in  death. 

TO  SIGH,  YET  FEEL  NO  PAIN. 

To  sigh,  yet  feel  no  pain; 

To  weep,  yet  scarce  know  why; 
To  sport  an  hour  with  beauty's  chain, 

Then  throw  it  idly  by; 
To  kneel  at  many  a  shrine, 

Yet  lav  the  heart  on  none; 


SONG    BOOK.  199 

To  think  all  other  charms  divine, 

But  those  we  just  have  won; 
This  is  love — careless  love — 
Such  as  kindleth  hearts  that  rove. 

To  keep  one  sacred  flame 

Through  life,  unchilled,  unmoved; 

To  love,  in  wintry  age,  the  same 
That  first  in  youth  we  loved; 

To  feel  that  we  adore 
To  such  refined  excess, 

« at  though  the  heart  would  break  with  more, 
We  could  not  live  with  less; 
This  is  love — faithful  love, — 
Such  as  saints  might  feel  above! 

BEGONE,  DULL  CARE. 

Begone,  dull  care,  I  pray  thee  begone  from 
me;  [agree; 

Begone,  dull  care,  thou  and  I  shall  never 
Long  time  thou  hast  been  tarrying  here, 

And  fain  thou  wouldst  me  kill; 
'But,  i'  faith,  dull  care, 

Thou  never  shalt  have  thy  will. 
Too  much  care  will  make  a  young  man  look 

grey;  [clay, 

And  too  much  care  will  turn  an  old  man  into 
My  wife  shall  dance  and  I  will  sing; 

So  merrily  pass  the  day; 
For  I  hold  it  one  of  the  wisest  things, 
To  drive  dull  care  away. 


200  jack  downing's 

I  WONT  BE  A  NUN. 

Now  is  it  not  a  pity  such  a  pretty  girl  as  I, 
Should  be  sent  to  a  nunnery  to  pine  away 

and  die? 
But  I  wont  be  a  nun — no,  I  wont  be  a  nun; 
I  'm  so  fond  of  pleasure  that  I  cannot  be  a  nun, 

I  'm  sure  I  cannot  tell  what  's  the  mischief  I 
have  done,  [a  nun. 

But  my  mother  often  tells  me  that  I  must  be 
But  I  wont  be  a  nun,  &g. 

I  could  not  bear  confinement,  it  would  not  do 
for  me,  [I  can  see. 

For  I  like  to  go  a  shopping,  and  to  see  what 
So  I  wont  be  a  nun,  &c. 

I  love  to  hear  men  flattering,  love  fashionable 
clothes,  [the  beaux. 

I  love  music  and  dancing,   and  chatting  with 
So  I  can  Jt  be  a  nun,  &c. 

So  mother,  do  n't  be  angry  now,  but  let  your 
daughter  be,  [wild  as  me. 

For  the  nuns  would  not  like  to  have  a  novice 
And  I  can  't  be  a  nun,  &c. 

HONEY  AND  MUSTARD. 

£ir  Jerry  Go-Nimble  was  lame  of  a  leg, 
Hev  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee; 


i 


SONG    BOOK.  201 

And  my  Lady  Go-Nimble  had  barely  one  peg, 

For  a  very  old  lady  was  she. 
Sir  Jerry,  when  married,  was  just  twenty-two; 
My  lady  fourscore,  when  Sir  J.  came  to  woo: 
As  ugly  as  Poles,  but  as  rich  as  a  Jew. 

How  we  used  to  laugh  at  the  old  creature 
when  she  sung — 

Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle,  hey  diddle  dee, 
Sing  hey  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee. 

At  the  wedding  my  lady  was  asked  for  a  song, 
|  Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee; 
'  Oh,'  says  she,  *  to  comply  I  511  not  hesitate 

long, 
But  I  own  I  'm  not  quite  in  the  key.' 
Then  she  gave  a  queer  look,  'twixt  a  squint 

and  a  grin, 
And  screwed  up  her  snuff-colored  lips  to  begin: 
Like  two  bellows-handles  she  moved  nose 

and  chin. 

When  she  sung — 

What  's  life  without  passion? 
Sweet  passion  of  love! 
Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle,  hey  diddle  dee,  &c. 

This  pair  of  true  lovers  they  lived  upon  love, 
Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee;  [above, 

And  tho  honey-moon  lasted  a  week  and 
And  then  't  was  all  mustard  for  she. 


202  jack  downing's 

Sir  Jerry  was  fond  of  his  cards,  dice  and  hits, 

And  my  lady  fell  into  historical  fits, 

And  for  cruelty  drank  herself  out  of  her  wits. 

Poor  soul!  she  wandered  about  like  Crazy 
Jane,  with  a  wisp  of  straw  in  one  hand,  and 
a  brandy  bottle  in  the  other, 

Singing — He  was  false,  and  I  'm  undone — 
Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle,  hey  diddle  dee,  &c. 

At  last  by  this  sad  hydrafogy  she  died, 

Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee; 
And  her  grim  ghost  it  came  by  Jerry's  bedside,- 

Saying,  list!  for  I  'm  come  for  thee! 
Sir  Jerry  he  hid  himself  under  the  clothes, 
But  the  ghost  very  soon  pulled  him  out  by 

the  toes, 
Threw  him  out  of  the  window,  and  cried, 
e  there  he  goes!' 

And  there  he  went,  sure  enough,  singing — 

Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle,  hey  diddle  dee, 
Hey  diddle,  ho  diddle  dee. 

CHARLIE  IS  MY  DARLING. 

'T  was  on  a  Monday  morning, 

Right  early  in  the  year, 
When  Charlie  came  to  our  town, 
The  young  chevalier. 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling, 
My  darling,  my  darling; 


SONG    BOOK.  203 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling, 
The  young  chevalier. 

As  lie  came  marching  up  the  street, 
The  pipes  played  loud  and  clear, 

And  a'  the  folk  came  running  out 
To  meet  the  chevalier. 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling,  &c. 

Wi*  Highland  bonnets  on  their  heads, 
And  claymores  brigl  t  and  clear, 

They  came  to  fight  for  Scotland's  right, 
And  the  young  chevalier. 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling,  &c. 

They  've  left  their  bonnie  Highland  hills, 

Their  wives  and  bairnies  dear, 
To  draw  the  sword  for  Scotland's  lord, 

The  young  chevalier. 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling,  &c. 

O!  there  were  monie  beating  hearts, 

And  monie  hopes  and  fears; 
And  monie  were  the  prayers  put  up 

For  the  young  chevalier. 

O!  Charlie  is  my  darling,  &c. 

HASSAN  THE  BRAVE. 

Behold  me,  sung  Hassan,  the  fearless  and  free, 
)n  the  steed  which  obevs  not  a  rider  but  me; 


204  jack  downing's 

That  points,  like  the  quills  of  the  eagle,  his 

ears,  [deer's; 

And  whose  bound  in  the  desert  is  light  as  the 
Behold   me,   with  sabre  new  sharpened  and 
bright,  [fight; 

With  pistols  new  flinted,  and  burnished  for 
My  cap  with  fresh  scarlet  so  gaily  bedone, 
And  my  baldric  of  silver,  that  gleams  in  the  sun. 

When  my  true  love  espies  me,  the  heart  in 

her  breast  [of  her  nest; 

Shall  beat  quick  as  the  pigeon's  when  robbed 
She  will  hush  the  hoarse  watch  dog,  and  hie 

to  the  grove, 
That  the  eye  of  her  kindred  espy  not  her  love; 
Yet  let  them  descry  me,  their  wrath  I  defy, 
And  why  should  she  tremble,  when  Hassan 

is  nigh?  [prey» 

Like  the  hawk  from  the  covey,  selecting  his 
From  the  midst  of  her  tribe  would  I  bear  her 

away. 

I  would  mount  her  behind  me,  sung  Hassan 

the  free, 
On  the  steed  which  obeys  not  a  rider  but  me; 
That  points,  like  the  quills  of  the  eagle,  his 

ears,  [deer's. 

And  whose  bound  in  the  desert  is  light  as  the 
For  J  come  with  sabre,  new  sharpened  and 

bright,  '        [fight; 

With  pistols  new  flinted,  and  burnished  for 


SONG    BOOK.  205 

My  cap  with  fresh  scarlet  so  gaily  bedone, 
And  my  baldric  of  silver,  that  gleams  in  the  sun. 

MY  NATIVE  LAND,  GOOD  NIGHT. 

Adieu!  adieu!  my  native  shore 

Fades  o'er  the  waters  blue; 
The  night  winds  sigh,  the  breakers  roar, 

And  shrieks  the  wild  sea-mew. 
Yon  sun  that  sets  upon  the  sea, 

We  follow  in  his  flight; 
Farewell,  awhile,  to  him  and  thee, 

My  native  land,  good  night! 

With  thee,  my  bark,  I  '11  swiftly  go, 

Athwart  the  foaming  brine; 
Nor  heed  what  land  thou  bear'st  me  to, 

So  not  again  to  mine. 
Welcome,  welcome,  ye  dark  blue  waves, 

And,  when  ye  fail  my  sight, 
Welcome,  ye  deserts  and  ye  caves, — 

My  native  land,  good  night! 

AND  YE  SHALL  WALK  IN  SILK 
ATTIRE. 

1  And  ye  shall  walk  in  silk  attire, 

And  siller  have  to  spare; 
Gin  ye  '11  consent  to  be  my  bride, 

Nor  think  on  Donald  mair.' 
Oh!  who  would  buy  a  silken  gown, 

With  a  poor,  broken  heart? 


206  JACK    DOWNINg's 

And  what  's  to  me  a  siller  crown* 
If  from  my  love  I  part? 

I  would  na  walk  in  silk  attire, 

Nor  braid  with  gems  my  hair, 
Gin  he  whose  faith  is  pledged  wri'  mine, 

Were  wranged  and  grieving  sair* 
From  infancy  he  loved  me  still, 

And  still  my  heart  shall  prove, 
How  weel  it  can  those  vows  fulfil 

Which  first  repaid  his  love, 

BOYS  OF  SWITZERLAND. 

Our  cot  was  sheltered  by  a  wood, 
And  near  a  lake's  green  margin  stood; 
A  mountain  bleak  behind  us  frowned, 
Whose  top  the  snow  in  summer  crowned. 
But  pastures  rich  and  warm  to  boot, 
Lay  smiling  af  the  mountain's  foot; 
There  first  we  frolicked  hand  in  hand, 
Two  infant  boys  of  Switzerland. 

When  scarcely  old  enough  to  know 
The  meaning  of  a  tear  of  wo, 
'T  was  then  by  mother  we  were  told 
That  father  in  his  grave  lay  cold; 
That  livelihoods  were  hard  to  get, 
And  we  too  young  to  labor  yet; 
And  tears  within  her  eyes  would  stand, 
For  her  two  boys  of  Switzerland. 


SONG    BOOK.  207 

But  soon  for  mother,  as  we  grew, 
We  worked  as  much  as  boys  could  do; 
Our  daily  gains  to  her  we  bore: — 
But,  ah!  she  '11  ne'er  receive  them  more. 
For  long  we  watched  beside  her  bed, 
Then  sobbed  to  see  her  lie  there  dead: 
And  now  we  wander  hand  in  hand, 
Two  orphan  boys  of  Switzerland. 


rp 


HOURS  THERE  WERE. 

Hours  there  were  to  mem'ry  dearer 

Than  the  sunbright  scenes  of  day; 
Friends  were  fonder,  joys  were  nearer, 

But,  alas!  they  *ve  fled  away! 
Oh!  't  was  when  the  moonlight  playing 

On  the  valley's  silent  grove, 
Told  the  blissful  hour  for  straying, 

With  my  fond,  my  faithful  love. 

Oft  when  evening  faded  mildly, 

O'er  the  wave  our  bark  would  rove, 
Then  we  *ve  heard  the  night-bird  wildly 

Breathe  his  vesper  tale  of  love. 
Songs  like  these  my  love  would  sing  me, 

Songs  that  warble  round  me  yet: 
Ah!  but  where  does  mem'ry  lead  me — 

Scenes  like  these  I  must  forget! 

But  in  dreams  let  love  be  near  me, 
With  the  joys  that  bloomed  before, 


208  jack  downing's 

Slumbering,  then  't  will  sweetly  cheer  me — 
Calm  to  live  my  pleasures  o'er. 

Then,  perhaps,  some  hopes  may  waken 
In  this  heart  depressed  with  care, 

And  like  flowers,  in  vale  forsaken, 
Live  in  lonely  beauty  there. 

HUNTSMAN'S  SONG  AND  CHORUS. 

Oh!  what  can  compare  to  the  huntsman's 
bold  pleasure? 
For  whom  is  the  goblet  so  rich  and  so  free? 
To  rise  from  the  grass  at  the  horn's  cheering 
measure,  [lea. 

And  follow  the  stag  through  the  forest  and 
Oh!  these  are  enjoyments  that  lighten  and 

cheer  us,  [the  soul: 

Give  strength  to  the  frame,  and  delight  to 
When  rocks  with  their  echoes,  and  forests 

are  near  us,  [flowing  bowl. 

More  free  sounds  the  pledge  from  the  full- 
Yo  ho!  tral,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la,  la. 

Diana  at  night  shines  brilliantly  o'er  us, 

And  aids  us  with  coolness  and  shadows  by 

day,  [us, 

To  chase  the  grim  wolf  from  his  covert  before 

And  bring  the  wild  boar  in  his  fury  to  bay. 

Oh!   these  are   enjoyments  that  lighten   and 

cheer  us,  [the  soul; 

Give  strength  to  the  frame,  and  delight  to 

When  rocks  with  their  echoes,  &c. 


SONG    BOOK.  209 


DESERTED  BY  THE  WANING  MOON. 

Deserted  by  the  waning  moon, 

When  skies  proclaim  night's  cheerless  noon, 

On  tower,  or  fort,  or  tented  ground, 

The  sentry  walks  his  lonely  round; 

And  should  a  footstep  haply  stray 

Where  caution  marks  the  guarded  way — 

Who  goes  fbere?  stranger,  quickly  tell; 

A  friend!  a  friend! — good  night! — all 's  well! 

Or  sailing  on  the  midnight  deep, 
While  weary  messmates  soundly  sleep, 
The  careful  watch  patrols  the  deck, 
To  guard  the  ship  from  foes  or  wreck: 
And  while  his  thoughts  oft  homeward  veer, 
Some  well  known  voice  salutes  his  ear — 
What  cheer?  oh!  brother,  quickly  tell! 
Above! — below! — good  night! — all 's  well. 

CHERRY  RIPE. 

Cherry  ripe,  ripe.  I  cry, 
Full  and  fair  ones,  come  and  buy. 
If  so  be  you  ask  me  where 
They  do  grow,  I  answer,  There, 
Where  my  Julia's  lips  do  smile, 
There  's  the  land,  or  cherry  isle. 

Cherry  ripe,  ripe,  I  cry, 

Full  and  fair  ones,  come  and  buy ; 
13 


210  jack  downing's 

There  plantations  fully  show, 
All  the  year,  where  cherries  grow. 
Cherry  ripe,  ripe,  I  cry, 
Full  and  fair  ones,  come  and  buy. 

THE  RIO  VERDE  SONG. 

Flow,  Rio  Verde!  R  ' 

In  melody  flow; 
Win  her  that  weepeth 

To  slumber  from  wo! 
Bid  thy  wave's  music 

Roll  through  her  dreams; 
Grief  ever  loveth 

The  kind  voice  of  streams. 

Bear  her  lone  spirit 

Afar  on  the  sound, 
Back  to  her  childhood, 

Her  life's  fairy  ground. 
Pass  like  the  whisper 

Of  love  that  is  gone. 
Flow,  Rio  Verde, 

Softly  flow  on. 

Dark,  glassy  water, 
So  crimsoned  of  yore, 

Love,  Death,  and  Sorrow, 
Know  thy  green  shore. 

Thou  should'st  have  echoes 
For  Grief's  deepest  tone. 


SONG    BOOK.  211 

Flow,  Rio  Verde, 
Sweetly  flow  on! 

DONALD,  THE  PRIDE  OF  DUMBLANE. 

O,  fair  rose  the  morning,  the  sun  in  mild 
splendor 
Bade  nature's  rich  beauties  delighted  awake, 
When  Donald  returned,  so  true  and  so  tender, 
Waved  proudly  the  scarf  he  had  kept  for 
my  sake;  [tect  me, 

O,  Jessie,  he  whispered,  thy  prayers  did  pro- 

And  faithful  as  ever  behold  me  again. 
Most  welcome,  I  answered,  I  ne'er  could 

suspect  thee,  [blane? 

For  art  thou  not  Donald,  the  pride  of  Dum- 
For  art  thou  not  Donald,  for  art  thou  not 

Donald,  [blane? 

For  art  thou  not  Donald  the  pride  of  Dum- 

If  since  his  departure  I  've  often  lamented, 
The  cause  that  enticed  him  from  Scotland 
to  roam, 
O,  how  could  a  feeling  like  that  be  prevented? 
While  Donald  was  absent,  unblest  was  my 
home. 
And  gentler,  a  braver,  a  kinder,  sure  never 
Attempted  the  heart  of  a  maiden  to  gain; 
O,  guard  him,  kind  Heaven,  for  Jessie   must 
ever  [blane. 

Delight  in  her  Donald,  the  pride  of  Dum- 


212  jack  downing's 


AWAY,  MY  BOUNDING  STEED,  AWAY. 

Away,  my  bounding  steed,  away! 

I  ride  for  princely  halls; 
Aye,  paw  the  ground  and  proudly  neigh, 

The  tourney  trumpet  calls. 

Nay,  spur  and  speed,  thou  gallant  knight, 

Or  lose  the  meed  of  fame; 
Vouch  in  the  lists  thy  lady's  right, 

And  conquer  in  her  name. 

The  challenge  breathed,  I  cast  my  glove; 

All  rivals  thus  I  dare; 
In  arms  I  '11  prove  my  lady-love 

The  fairest  of  the  fair. 

Now  poise  the  tempered  lance  on  high — 

It  shivers  on  my  shield — 
Then  forth  two  flashing  rapiers  fly, 

And  skill  decides  the  field. 

The  joust  is  done,  the  prize  is  won, 

And  merry  is  the  victor's  eye; 
Pass  wine-cups  round,  while  clarions  sound 

The  joys  of  love  and  chivalry. 


THE  LAVENDER  GIRL. 

A3  the  sun  climbs  over  the  hills, 

When  the  sky -larks  sing  so  cheerily, 


I 


SONG    BOOK.  213 

I  my  little  basket  fill, 

And  trudge  along  the  village  merrily. 
Light  my  bosom,  light  my  heart, 

I  but  laugh  at  Cupid's  dart; 
I  keep  my  mother,  myself  and  brother, 

By  trudging  along  to  sell  my  lavender. 
Ladies  try  it,  come  and  buy  it, 

Never  saw  ye  nicer  lavender; 
Ladies  try  it,  try  it,  try  it, 

Come,  come,  buy  my  lavender. 

Ere  the  gentry  quit  their  beds, 

Foes  to  health — I  'm  wisely  keeping  it; 
Oft  I  earn  my  daily  bread, 

And  sit  beneath  the  hedge  partaking  it. 
Ne'er  repining,  ne'er  distressed, 

Tell  me,  then,  am  not  I  blessed? 
Though  not  wealthy,  I  'm  young  and  healthy, 

And  only  care  to  sell  my  lavender. 
Ladies  try  it,  &c. 

JOHN  ANDERSON,  MY  JO. 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

When  we  were  first  acquent, 
Your  locks  were  like  the  raven, 

Your  bonnie  brow  was  brent! 
But  now  your  head  's  turned  bald,  John, 

Your  locks  are  like  the  snow, 
Yet  blessings  on  your  frosty  pow, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 


214  jack  downing's 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

When  nature  first  began  ' 
To  try  her  cannie  hand,  John, 

Her  master-work  was  man: 
And  you  amang  them  a'  John, 

Sae  trig  frae  tap  to  toe, 
She  proved  to  be  nae  journey-wark, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

Ye  were  my  first  conceit, 
And  ye  need  na  think  it  strange,  John, 

Though  I  ca'  ye  trim  and  neat; 
Though  some  folks  say  ye  're  old  John, 

I  never  think  ye  so, 
But  I  think  ye  'je  all  the  same  to  me, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

Joh*i  Anderson,  my  jo,  John,    *• 

We  've  seen  our  bairns'  bairns, 
And  yet,  my  dear  John  Anderson, 

I  'm  happy  in  your  arms; 
And  sae  are  ye  in  mine.  John, 

I  5m  sure  ye  '11  ne'er  say  no, 
Though  the  days  are  gane  that  ye  have  seen, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

What  pleasure  does  it  gie, 
To  see  sae  many  sprouts,  John, 

Spring  up  'tween  you  and  me; 


SONG    BOOK.  215 

And  ilka  lad  and  lass,  John, 

In  our  footsteps  to  go, 
Make  perfect  heaven  here  on  earth, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

John  Anderson,  my  jo,  John, 

Frae  year  to  year  we  've  past, 
And  soon  that  year  maun  come,  John, 

Will  bring  us  to  our  last; 
But  let  na'  that  affright  us,  John, 

Our  hearts  were  ne'er  our  foe, 
While  in  innocent  delight  we  've  lived, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

John  Anderson,  my  jn,  John, 

We  clamb  the  hill  thegither, 
And  monie  a  cantie  day,  John, 

We  've  had  wi'  ane  anither: 
Now  we  maun  totter  down,  John, 

But  hand  in  hand  we  '11  go, 
And  we  '11  sleep  thegither  at  the  foot, 

John  Anderson,  my  jo. 

AND  ARE  YE  SURE  THE  NEWS 
IS  TRUE? 

And  are  ye  sure  the  news  is  true? 

And  are  ye  sure  he  's  weel? 
Is  this  a  time  to  ta'k  o'  wark? 

Mak  haste,  set  by  your  wheel! 
Is  this  a  time  to  ta'k  o'  wark, 

Wrhen  Colin  's  at  the  door? 


216  jack  downing's 

Gie  me  my  cloak,  I  '11  to  the  quay? 
And  see  him  come  ashore. 

For  there  's  nae  luck  about  the  house, 

There  's  nae  luck  ava; 
There  's  little  pleasure  in  the  house, 
When  our  gudeman  5s  awa. 

Rise  up  and  mak  a  clean  fireside, 

Put  on  the  meikle  pot; 
Gie  little  Kate  her  cotton  gown, 

And  Jock  his  Sunday's  coat: 
And  mak  their  shoon  as  black  as  slaes, 

Their  hose  as  white  as  snaw: 
It  's  a'  to  please  my  ain  gudeman, 

For  he  's  been  lang  awa. 

For  there  's  na  luck,  &c. 

There  are  twa  hens  upon  the  bauk, 

They  've  fed  this  month  or  mair; 
Mak  haste,  and  thraw  their  necks  about* 

That  Colin  weel  may  fare: 
And  spread  the  table  neat  and  cleanj 

Gar  ilka  think  look  braw: 
It  's  a'  for  love  o'  my  gudeman, 

For  he  's  been  lang  awa. 

For  there  's  na  luck,  &c. 

O  gie  me  down  my  bigonets, 

My  bishop-satin  gown; 
For  I  maun  tell  the  Bailie's  wife* 

That  Colin  's  come  to  town: 


- 


SONG   BOOK.  217 

My  Sunday's  shoon,  they  maun  gae  on, 

My  hose  o'  pearly  blue: 
It  's  a5  to  please  my  ain  gudeman, 

For  he  's  baith  leal  and  true. 

For  there  's  nae  luck,  &c. 

Sae  true  's  his  word,  sae  smooth  's  his  speech, 

His  breath  's  like  caller  air, 
His  very  foot  has  music  in  't, 

When  he  comes  up  the  stair. 
And  will  I  see  his  face  again? 

And  will  I  hear  him  speak? 
I  'm  downright  dizzy  wi'  the  thought, 

In  troth,  I  'm  like  to  greet. 

For  there  's  nae  luck,  &c. 

The  cauld  blasts  o'  the  winter  wind, 

That  thirled  through  my  heart, 
They  're  a'  blawn  by,  I  hae  him  safe* 

Till  death  we  '11  never  part. 
But  what  pits  parting  in  my  head? 

It  may  be  far  awa; 
The  present  moment  is  our  ain, 

The  neist  we  never  saw. 

For  there  's  nae  luck,  &c. 

Since  Colin  's  weel,  I  'm  weel  content; 

I  hae  nae  mair  to  crave; 
Could  I  but  live  to  mak  him  blest, 

I  'm  blest  aboon  the  lave: 


218  jack  downing' s 

And  will  I  see  his  face  again? 

And  will  I  hear  him  speak? 
I  'm  downright  dizzy  wi'  the  thought; 

In  troth,  I  'm  like  to  greet. 

For  there  's  nae  luck,  &c. 

THE  STORM. 

•Cease,  rude  Boreas,  blast 'ring  railer, 

List,  ye  landsmen,  all  to  me, 
Messmates,  hear  a  brother  sailor 

Sing  the  danger  of  the  sea. 
From  bounding  billows,  first  in  motion, 

When  the  distant  whirlwinds  rise, 
To  the  tempest-troubled  ocean, 

When  the  seas  contend  with  skies. 

Hark!  the  boatswain  hoarsel}7  bawling, 

By  top-sail  sheets  and  haulyards  stand! 
Down  top-gallants,  quick  be  hauling! 

Down  your  stay-sails,  hand,  boys,  hand! 
Now  it  freshens,  set  the  braces; 

Quick  the  topsail  sheets  let  go! 
Luff,  boys,  luff,  don  't  make  wry  faces; 

Up,  your  top-sails  nimbly  clew! 

Now  all  you  on  down-beds  sporting, 
Fondly  locked  in  beauty's  arms, 

Fresh  enjoyments,  wanton  courting, 
Free  from  all  but  love's  alarms. 

Round  us  roars  the  tempest  louder, 

.    Think  what  fears  our  minds  enthrall — 


SONG    BOOK.  219 


Haider  yet,  it  yet  blows  harder, 
Now  ajjain  the  boatswain's  call. 


*ov 


The  top-sail  yards  point  to  the  wind,  boys, 

See  all  clear  to  reef  each  course — 
Let  the  fore-sheets. go;  don't  mind,  boys, 

Though  the  weather  should  be  worse. 
Fore  and  aft  the  sprit-sail  yard  get, 

Reef  the  mizen — see  all  clear; 
Hands  up,  each  preventer-brace  set, 

Man  the  fore-yard,  cheer,  lads,  cheer! 

Now  the  dreadful  thunder  's  roaring, 

Peals  on  peals  contending  crash, 
On  our  heads  fierce  rain  falls  pouring, 

In  our  eyes  blue  lightnings  flash! 
One  wide  water  all  around  us, 

All  above  us  one  black  sky, 
Different  deaths  at  once  surround  us, 

Hark!  what  means  that  dreadful  cry? 

The  foremast  'sgone!  cries  every  tongue  out, 

O'er  the  lee,  twelve  feet  'bove  deck. 
A  leak  beneath  the  chest-tree  's  sprung  out, 

Call  all  hands  to  clear  the  wreck, 
Quick  the  lanyards  cut  to  pieces; 

Come,  my  hearts,  be  stout  and  bold; 
Plumb  the  well,  the  leak  increases! 

Four  feet  water  's  in  the  hold! 

While  o'er  the  ship  wild  waves  are  beating, 
We  for  wives  or  children  mourn! 


220  jack  downing's 

Alas!  from  hence  there  's  no  retreating; 

Alas!  to  them  there  's  no  return! 
Still  the  leak  is  gaining  on  us; 

Both  chain  pumps  are  choaked  below; 
Heaven  have  mercy  here  upon  us! 

For  only  that  can  save  us  now! 

On  the  lee-beam  is  the  land,  boys; 

Let  the  guns  o'erboard  be  thrown; 
To  the  pump  come  every  hand,  boys; 

See,  our  mizen-mast  is  gone. 
The  leak  we  've  found;  it  cannot  pour  fast; 

We  've  lightened  her  a  foot  or  more; 
Up,  and  rig  the  jury  foremast; 

She  rights,  she  rights,  boys!  wear  offshore. 

Now  once  more  on  joys  we  're  thinking, 

Since  kind  fortune  spared  our  lives; 
Come,  the  can,  boys!  let 's  be  drinking, 

To  our  sweethearts  and  our  wives. 
Fill  it  up,  about  ship  wheel  it, 

Clos%'to  the  lips  a  brimmer  join, 
Where  .'-s  the  tempest  now  ?  who  feels  it  ? 

None!  our  danger  's  drowned  in  wine. 

BLACK  EYED  SUSAN. 

All  in  the  downs  the  fleet  was  moored, 
The  streamers  waving  in  the  wind, 

When  black  eyed  Susan  came  on  board, 
Oh,  where  shall  I  my  true  love  find? 


SONG   BOOK.  221 

Tell  me,  ye  jovial  sailors,  tell  me  true, 
Does  my  sweet  William  sail  among  your  crew? 

William,  who  high  upon  the  yard, 
Rocked  with  the  billows  to  and  fro, 

Soon  as  her  well-known  voice  he  heard, 
He  sighed  and  cast  his  eves  below; 

The  cord  glides  swiftly  through  his  glowing 
hands, 

And  quick  as  lightning  on  the  deck  he  stands. 

So  the  sweet  lark,  high  poised  in  air, 
Shuts  close  his  pinions  to  his  breast, 

(If  chance  his  mate's  shrill  note  he  hear,) 
And  drops  at  once  into  her  nest. 

The  noblest  captain  in  the  British  fleet, 

Might  envy  William's  lips  those  kisses  sweet. 

O,  Susan,  Susan,  lovely  dear! 

My  vows  shall  ever  true  remain, 
Let  me  kiss  ofFthat  falling  tear, 

We  only  part  to  meet  again. 
Change  as  ye  list,  ye  winds,  my  heart  shall  be, 
The  faithful  compass  that  still  points  to  thee. 

Believe  not  what  the  landsmen  say, 

Who  tempt  with  doubts  thy  constant  mind, 

They  '11  tell  thee  sailors,  when  away, 
In  every  port  a  mistress  find — 

Yes,  yes,  believe  them  when  they  tell  thee  so, 

For  thou  art  present  wheresoe'er  I  go. 


222  jack  d<Twning's 

If  to  far  India's  coast  we  sail, 

Thioe  eves  are  seen  in  diamonds  bright, 
Thy  breath  :s  Afric's  spicy  gale, 

Thy  skin  is  ivory  so  white; 
Thus  every  beauteous  object  that  1  view, 
Wakes  in  my  soul  some  charm  of  lovely  Sue. 

Though  battle  call  me  from  thy  arms, 
Let  not  my  pretty  Susan  mourn; 

Though  cannons  roar,  vet  safe  from  harms 
William  shall  to  his  dear  return. 

Love  turns  aside  the  balls  that  round  me  fly, 

Lest  precious  tears  should  fall  from  Susan's  eye. 

The  boatswain  gave  the  dreadful  word, 
The  sails  their  swelling  bosoms  spread; 

Xo  longer  must  she  stay  aboard, 

They  kissed,  she  signed,  he  hung  his  head. 

Her  less'ninrr  boat  unwilling  rowed  to  land: 

Adieu!  she  cries,  and  waved  her  lily  hand. 

GILES  SCROGGINGS, 

Giles  Scroggir.gs  courted  Mollv  Brown, 

Fol  deriddie  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
The  fairest  wench  in  all  the  town, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddie  lido; 
He  bought  a  ring  with  posy  true, 

*  If  you  loves  me  as  I  loves  you, 
No  knife  can  cut  our  love  in  two. 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido. 


SONG    BOOK.  223 

But  scissors  cut  as  well  as  knives, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
And  quite  unsartain  's  all  our  lives, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
The  day  they  were  to  have  been  wed, 

Fate's  scissors  cut  poor  Gile's  thread, 
So  they  could  not  be  mar-ri-ed, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 

Poor  Molly  laid  her  down  to  weep, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
And  cried  herself  quite  fast  asleep, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
When  standing  all  by  the  bed  post, 

A  figure  tall  her  sight  engrossed, 
And  it  cried,  I  beez  Giles  Scroggings'  ghost! 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido. 

The  ghost  it  said  all  solemnly, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
O  Molly,  you  must  go  with  I! 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 
All  to  the  grave  your  love  to  cool. 

She  says,  I  am  not  dead,  you  fool! 
Says  the  ghost,  says  he,  Vy,  that  's  no  rule! 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 

The  ghost  he  seized  her  all  so  grim, 
Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 

All  for  to  go  along  with  him, 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido; 


) 


224  jack  downing's 

Come,  come,  said  he,  ere  morning  beam; 

I  vont  said  she,  and  she  screamed  a  scream, 
Then  she  woke  and  found  she  dreamt  a  dream. 

Fol  deriddle  lol,  fol  deriddle  lido. 

TO  ALTHEA,  FROM  PRISON. 

When  love  with  unconfined  wings, 

Hovers  within  my  gates, 
And  my  divine  Althea  brings, 

To  whisper  at  my  grates; 
When  I  lie  tangled  in  her  hair, 

And  fettered  by  her  eye, 
The  birds  that  wanton  in  the  air, 

Know  no  such  liberty. 

When  flowing  cups  run  swiftly  round, 

With  no  allaying  Thames, 
Our  careless  heads  with  roses  crowned, 

Our  breasts  with  loyal  flames; 
When  thirsty  grief,  in  wine  we  steep; 

When  health  and  draughts  go  free; 
Fishes  that  tipple  in  the  deep, 

Know  no  such  liberty. 

When,  linnet-like,  confined  I 

With  shriller  note,  shall  sing 
The  mercy,  sweetness,  majesty, 

And  glories  of  my  king; 
When  I  shall  voice  aloud,  how  good 

He  is;  how  great  should  be; 


SONG    BOOK.  325 

The  enlarged  winds  that  curl  the  flood, 
Know  no  such  liberty. 

Stone  walls  do  not  a  prison  make, 

Nor  iron  bars,  a  cage. 
Minds  innocent  and  quiet  take 

That  for  a  hermitage. 
If  I  have  freedom  in  my  love, 

And  in  my  soul  am  free, 
Angels  alone,  who  soar  above, 

Enjoy  such  liberty. 

WHY  SO  PALE?  ^ 

Why  so  pale  and  wan,  fond  lover, 

Prythee,  why  so  pale? 
Will,  when  looking  well  can  't  move  her, 

Looking  ill  prevail? 

Prythee,  why  so  pale? 

Why  so  dull  and  mute,  young  sinner? 

Prythee,  why  so  mute? 
Will,  when  speaking  well  can  't  win  her, 

Saying  nothing,  do  't? 

Prythee,  why  so  mute? 

Quit,  for  shame — this  will  not  move — 

This  cannot  take  her — 
If,  of  herself,  she  will  not  love, 

Nothing  will  make  her: 

The  devil  take  her, 
14  "• 

J 


\ 


226  JACK   DOWNING5!* 


MARY'S  DREAM. 

The  moon  had  climbed  the  highest  hill, 

That  rises  o'er  the  source  of  Dee; 
And  from  the  eastern  summit  shed 

Her  silver  light  on  tower  and  tree; 
When  Mary  laid  her  down  to  sleep, 

Her  thoughts  on  Sandy,  far  at  sea, 
Then  soft  and  low  a  voice  was  heard — 

Say,  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

She  from  her  pillow  gently  raised 

Her  head,  to  ask  who  there  might  be, 
And  saw  young  Sandy  shivering  stand, 

With  pallid  cheek,  and  hollow  ee; 
O,  Mary,  dear,  cold  is  my  clay; 

It  lies  beneath  a  stormy  sea; 
Far,  far  from  thee,  I  sleep  in  death; 

So,  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

Three  stormy  nights  and  stormy  dayss 

We  tossed  upon  the  raging  main, 
And  long  we  strove  our  bark  to  save, 

But  all  our  striving  was  in  vain. 
E'en  then,  when  horror  chilled  my  blood, 

My  heart  was  filled  with  love  for  thee; 
The  storm  is  past,  and  1  at  rest; 

So,  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

O,  maiden  dear,  thyself  prepare ! 

We  soon  shall  meet  upon  that  shore, 


SONG   BOOK.  227 

Where  love  is  free  from  doubt  or  care, 
And  thou  and  I  shall  part  no  more. 

Loud  crowed  the  cock,  the  shadow  fled! 
No  more  of  Sandy  could  she  see! 

But  soft  the  passing  spirit  said, 
O,  Mary,  weep  no  more  for  me! 

MY  HEID  IS  LIKE  TO  REND,  WILLIE. 

My  heid  is  like  to  rend,  Willie, 

My  heart  is  like  to  break — 
I  5m  wearin'  aff  my  feet,  Willie,      # 

I  'm  dyin'  for  your  sake! 
Oh,  lay  your  cheek  to  mine,  Willie, 

Your  hand  on  my  breast-bane — 
Oh,  say  you  '11  think  on  me,  Willie, 

WThen  I  am  dead  and  gane! 

It 's  vain  to  comfort  me,  Willie, — 

Sair  grief  maun  hae  its  will — 
But  let  me  rest  upon  your  breast, 

To  sab  and  greet  my  fill. 
Let  me  sit  on  your  knee,  Willie, 

Let  me  shed  by  your  hair, 
And  look  into  the  face,  Willie, 

I  never  shall  see  mair. 

I  'm  sittin'  on  your  knee,  Willie, 

For  the  last  time  in  my  life — 
A  puir  heart-broken  thing,  Willie, 

A  mither,  vet  nae  wife. 


228  jack  downing's 

Ay,  press  your  hand  upon  my  heart, 

And  press  it  mail*  and  mair — 
Or  it  will  burst  the  silken  twine, 

Sae  strong  is  its  despair! 

Oh  wae  's  me  for  the  hour,  Willie, 

When  we  thegither  met — 
Oh  wae  5s  me  for  the  time,  Willie, 

That  our  first  tryst  was  set! 
Oh  wae  *s  me,  for  the  loanin'  green 

Where  we  were  wont  to  gae — 
And  wae  's  me,  for  the  destinie, 

That  gart  me  love  thee  sae! 

Oh!  dinna  mind  my  words,  Willie, 

I  downa'  seek  to  blame — 
But  oh!  it  's  hard  to  live,  Willie, 

And  dree  to  a  warld's  shame! 
Hot  tears  are  hailin'  ower  your  cheeks, 

And  hailin'  ower  your  chin! 
Why  weep  ye  sae,  for  worthlessness, 

For  sorrow  and  for  sin! 

I  'm  weary  o'  the  warld,  Willie, 

And  sick  wi'  a'  I  see — 
I  canna  live  as  I  hae  live*1, 

Or  be  as  I  should  be. 
But  fold  unto  your  heart,  Willie, 

The  heart  that  still  is  thine — 
And  kiss  ance  mair,  the  white,  white  cheek, 

Ye  said  was  red,  langsyne. 


SONG    BOOK.  ^"229 

A  stoun'  goes  through  my  heid,  Willie, 
A  sair  stoun'  through  my  heart — 

Oh!  haud  me  up;  and  let  me  kiss 
Thy  brow,  ere  we  twa  part; 

Anither,  and  anither  yet! — 

How  last  my  life-strings  break! — 

Fareweel!  fareweel!  through  yon  kirk-yard, 
?tep  Hghtly,  for  my  sake! 


SI 


The  lav'rock  in  the  lift,  Willie, 

Tharlilts  fur  ower  our  heid, 
Will  sing,  the  morn,  as  merrilie 

Amine  the  clay-cauld  deid; 
And  this  green  turf  we  're  sittin'  on, 

Wi'  dew-draps  shimmering  sheen, 
Will  hap  the  heart  that  luvit  thee, 

As  warld  has  seldom  seen! 

But  oh!  remember  me,  Willie, 

On  land  where'er  ye  be — 
And  oh!  think  on  the  leal,  leal  heart, 

That  ne'er  luvit  ane  but  thee! 
And  oh!  think  on  the  cauld,  cauld  mools, 

That  file  my  yellow  hair; 
That  kiss  the  cheek,  and  kiss  the  chin, 

Ye  never  shall  kiss  mair! 

ANNA  OF  CONWAY. 

When  morn's  ruddy  blushes  illumine  the  sky, 
Away,  o'er  the  mountains,  I  cheerfully  hie! 


y 


230  jack  downing's 

To  the  fair,  or  the  market,  which  e'er  it  may 

be, 
I  care  not,  since  Anna  looks  kindly  on  me! 
Yes!  Anna  of  Conway  looks  kindly  on  me! 

As  I  push  off  my  boat,  when  the  evening  is 

gra)r> 
A  supply  to  provide  for  the  market  next  day, 

O'er  the  fisherman's  labors  I  whistle  with  glee, 

Since  Anna,  sweet  Anna!  is  watching  for  me. 

Yes!  Anna  of  Conway  is  watching  for  me. 

Ere  long,  at  the  church,  wedlock's  knot  will 
be  tied,  [bride! 

Then   proudly   I  '11  bear  to  our  cottage  my 
My  bosom  from  care  and  anxiety  free, 
Since  Anna,  sweet  i\nna!  smiles  only  for  me! 

MALTESE  BOATMAN'S  SONG. 

See,  brothers,  see,  how  the  night  comes  on, 
Slowly  sinks  the  setting  sun.        [perVsound 
{Convent  Bell.)  Hark!  how  the  solemn  ves- 
Sweetly  falls  upon  the  ear.  [o'er, 

Then  haste,  let  us  work  till  the  daylight  is 

And  fold  our  net  as  we  row  to  the  shore — 

Our  toil  of  labor  being  o'er, 

How  sweet  the  boatman's  welcome  home! 
Home,  home,  home!  the  boatman's  welcome 
home.  [home! 

Sweet!  oh,  sweet!  the  boatman's  welcome 


SONG    BOOK.  231 

See,  how  the  tints  of  daylight  die, 

Soon  we  '11  hear  the  tender  sigh; 

For  when  the  toil  of  labor  's  o'er, 

We  shall  meet  our  friends  on  shore.       [o'er, 
Then  haste,  let  us  work  till  the  daylight  is 
And  fold  our  nets  as  we  row  to  the  shore; 
For  fame  or  gold  howe'er  we  roam, 
No  sound  so  sweet  as  welcome  home! 
Home,  home,  Sac. 

THE  SHEPHERD'S  RESOLUTION. 

Shall  I,  wasting  in  despair, 

Die,  because  a  woman  's  fair, 

Or  make  pale  my  cheeks  with  care, 

'Cause  another's  rosy  are? 
If  she  be  not  so  to  me, 
What  care  I  how  fair  she  be? 

Shall  my  foolish  heart  be  pined, 

'Cause  I  see  a  woman  kind? 

Or  a  well  disposed  nature 

Joined  with  ajovely  feature? 

Be  she  meeker,  kinder,  than 

The  turtle  dove  or  pelican; 
If  she  be  not  so  to  me, 
What  care  I  how  kind  she  be? 

Shall  a  woman's  virtues  move 
Me  to  perish  for  her  lover 
Or  her  well  deservings  kuown, 
Make  me  quite  forget  mine  ovm? 


232  jack  downing' s 

Be  she  with  that  goodness  blest 
Which  may  merit  name  ofbest, 
If  she  be  not  such  to  me, 
What  care  I  how  good  she  be? 

'Cause  her  fortune  seems  too  high, 
Shall  I  play  the  fool,  and  die? 
Those  that  bear  a  noble  mind, 
Where  they  want  of  riches  find, 
Think,  what  with  them,  they  would  do, 
That  without  them,  dare  to  woo: 
And  unless  that  mind  I  see, 
What  care  1  how  great  she  be? 

Great  or  good,  or  kind  or  fair, 

I  will  ne'er  the  more  despair. 

If  she  love  me,  this  believe; 

I  will  die  ere  she  shall  grieve. 

If  she  slight  me  when  I  woo, 

I  can  scorn  and  let  her  go. 
If  she  be  not  fit  for  me, 
What  care  I  for  whom  she  be? 

• 

THE  LOVING  QUAKE(R. 

Verily,  ah!  how*fny  heart  keepetri  bumping, 
A   pendulum    'gainst   my  tough  ribs   loudly 
thumping;  [jumping; 

Or  a  mouse  in  a  rat-trap,  that 's  to  and  fro 
'T  is  truth  now,  by  yea  and  by  nay.     [be, 
And  'tis  umph!  umph!  what  can  the  matter 


SONG    LOOK.  233 

Umph!  umph!  what  can  the  matter  be, 
Ephraim  thou  'it  going  astray. 

lea,  marvellous  't  was,  when  mine  eye3  first 
went  roving,  [ing> 

Froin  meek  sister  Sarah,  towards  vanity  mov- 
I  found  a  profane  one  it  was,  I  was  loving; 
'Tis  truth,  &c. 

'T  was  folly's  vain  garment,  the  maid  smiled 

so  good  in;  she  stood  in, 

Yea,  silk  hose,  and  pumps,  on  the  pavement 

Which  stirred  up  my  zeal,  as  you  stir  up  a 

puddin'. 

'Tis  truth,  &c. 

When  I  yea  and  nay  e'er  pronounce  to  de- 
ceive her,  [beaver. 
May  I  bow  down  my  body  to  take  oiF  my 
I  would  cherish  the  maiden  for  ever  and  ever; 

By  yea  and  nay,  thus  much  I  own.       [be, 
And  'tis  umph!   umph!  what  can  the  matter 
Umph!  umph!  what  can  the  matter  be, 
I  verily  long  to  know  what  can  the  matter  be, 

When  she  is  bone  of  my  bone. 

I  THOUGHT  THAT  I  HAD  BROKE 
THE  CHAIN. 

I  thought  that  I  had  broke  the  chain 
Which  bound  mo  captive  at  thy  feet; 


234  jack  downing's 

That  my  cold  heart  would  ne'er  again, 
With  rapture  in  thy  presence  beat. 

Alas!  this  scornful  eye  once  more 
Beholds  thee  only  in  the  throng, 

And  this  dull  ear,  so  charmed  before, 
Again  is  spell-bound  by  thy  song. 

I  thought  the  altar  where  my  love 

Its  incense  to  thy  charms  had  burned, 
Was  desolate,  since  he  who  strove 

To  kneel  so  humbly  there,  was  spurned — 
Alas!  a  spark  was  glowing  where 

I  deemed  the  ashes  cold  had  lain; 
And  thy  blue  eye,  once  worshipped  there, 

Hath  lit  the  sacred  fire  again. 

I  oft  recal  the  scorn  which  thou 

Didst  heap  upon  love's  purest  prayer, 
And  vow  to  break  the  bonds,  which  now 

I  may  not  but  ignobly  wear. 
Still,  heart  will  whisper,  4  Thus  saith  Fate — 

The  slave  shall  not  his  fetters  sever — 
For  wrhen  he  striveth  most  to  hate, 

He  knows  ho  loveth  more  than  ever.* 

THE  BARD'S  LEGACY. 

When  in  death  I  shall  calm  recline, 
Oh!  bear  my  heart  to  my  mistress  dear; 

Tell  her  it  lived  upon  smiles  and  wine 

Of  the  brightest  hue,  while  it  lingered  here; 


SONG    BOOK.  235 

Bid  her  not  shed  one  tear  of  sorrow, 
To  sully  a  heart  so  brilliant  and  light, 

But  balmy  drops  from  the  red  grape  borrow, 
To  bathe  the  relic  from  morn  till  night. 

When  the  light  of  my  song  is  o'er, 

Oh!  take  my  harp  to  your  ancient  hall; 
Hang  it  up  at  the  friendly  door, 

Where  weary  travellers  love  to  call; 
And  should  some  bard  who  roams  forsaken, 

Revive  its  soft  notes  in  passing  along, 
Oh!  let  one  thought  of  its  master  awaken 

Your  warmest  smile  for  the  child  of  song. 

Take  this  cup,  which  is  now  o'ei  flowing, 

To  grace  your  revel  when  I  'm  at  rest, 
Never,  oh!  never  its  balm  bestowing 

On  lips  that  beauty  has  seldom  blessed. 
But  if  some  fond  devoted  lover 

To  her  he  adores  should  bathe  its  brim, 
Oh!  then  my  spirit  around  shall  hover, 

And  hallow  each  drop  that  foams  for  him. 

MARY,  I  BELIEVED  THEE  TRUE. 

Mary,  I  believed  thee  true, 

And  I  was  blest  in  thus  believing; 

But  now  I  mourn  that  e'er  I  knew 
A  girl  so  fair  and  so  deceiving. 

How  few  have  ever  loved  like  me, 
Oh!  I  have  loved  thee  too  sincerely! 


236  jack  downing's 

And  few  have  e'er  deceived  like  thee, 
Alas,  deceived  me  too  severely! 

Fare-thee-well,  yet  think  awhile 

On  one  whose  bosom  bleeds  to  doubt  thee; 
Who  now  would  rather  trust  that  smile, 

And  die  with  thee,  than  live  without  thee! 

Fare-thee-well,  I  '11  think  of  thee, 

Thou  leav'st  me  many  a  bitter  token! 
For  see,  distracting  woman!  see, 
'  My  peace  is  gone,  my  heart  is  broken! 

SWISS  HUNTER'S  WELCOME  HOME. 

While  die  hunter  o'er  the  mountain,  at  day- 
break is  bounding,  [scries; 
By  the  wild  rilly  fountain,  the  chamois  de- 
Through  the  mist  of  the  morning,  his  hallo 
resounding,  [flies. 
Every  fear  nobly  scorning,  still  onward  he 
When  the  hunter  o'er  the  mountain, 

At  daybreak  is  bounding, 
By  the  wild  rilly  fountain, 
The  chamois  descries,  the  chamois,  &c. 

He  tracks  in  the  snow  print,  the  flight  of  the 

ranger;  [foam; 

He  brushes  the  dew-tint,  where  cataracts 

The  hunter  pursuing,  surmounts  every  danger, 

The  swift  chase  renewing,  till  night  calls 

him  home, 


SONG   BOOK.  237 

When  the  hunter  o'er  the  mountain, 

At  daybreak  is  bounding, 
In  search  of  the  chamois, 
Unwearied  he  flies,  unwearied  he  flies. 

From  the  toils  of  the  chase,  the  bold  hunter 
returning, 
With  joy  views  his  cot  in  the  valley  below. 
When  the  hunter  o'er  the  mountain,  from  the 
chase  is  returning,  [he  flies. 

To  his  cot  near  the  fountain,  with  rapture 
Then  content  in  his  cottage, 

While  gently  reposing, 
From  woman's  bright  smile 
Meets  a  sweet  welcome  home,  a  sweet,  &c. 

ROB  ROY  MACGREGOR. 

Pardon  now  the  bold  outlaw, 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O ! 
Grant  him  mercy,  gentles  a', 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 
Let  your  hands  and  hearts  agree, 
Set  the  Highland  laddie  free, 
Make  us  sing  wi'  muckle  glee, 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 

Long  the  state  has  doomed  his  fa', 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 
Still  lie  spurned  the  hatefu'  law, 

Rob  Roy  Macg  egor,  O! 


238  jack  downing's 

Scots  can  for  their  country  die; 
Ne'er  for  Britain's  foes  they  flee, 
A'  that's  past  forget — forgi'e, 
Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 

Scotland's  fear  and  Scotland's  pride, 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 
Your  award  must  now  abide, 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 
Lang  your  favors  hae  been  jnine, 

Favors  I  will  ne'er  resign, 
Welcome  then  for  auld  lang  syne, 

Rob  Roy  Macgregor,  O! 

BRIGNAL  BANKS. 

O  Brignal  banks  are  wild  and  fair, 

And  Greta  woods  are  green, 
And  you  may  gather  garlands  there, 

Would  grace  a  summer  queen. 
And  as  I  rode  by  Dalton-hall, 

Beneath  the  turret  high, 
A  maiden  on  the  castle  wall 

Was  singing  merrily, — 

0  Brignal  banks  are  fresh  and  fair, 
And  Greta  woods  are  green; 

1  'd  rather  rove  with  Edmund  there 
Than  reign  our  English  queen. 

If,  maiden,  thou  wouldst  wend  with  Die, 
To  leave  both  tower  and  town, 


SONG    BOOK.  239 

Thou  first  must  guess  what  life  lend  we, 

That  dwell  by  dale  and  down. 
And  if  thou  canst  that  riddle  read, 

As  read  full  well  you  may, 
Then  to  the  greenwood  shalt  thou  speed 

As  blithe  as  queen  of  May. 
Yet  sang  she,  Brignal  banks  are  fair, 

And  Greta  woods  are  green; 
I  'd  rather  rove  with  Edmund  there 

Than  reign  our  English  queen, 

I  read  you,  by  your  bugle  horn, 

And  by  your  palfrey  good, 
I  read  you  for  a  ranger  sworn, 

To  keep  the  king's  green  wood. 
A  ranger,  lady,  winds  his  horn, 

And  't  is  at  peep  of  light; 
His  blast  is  heard  at  merry  morn, 

And  mine  at  dead  of  night. 
Yet  sung  she,  Brignal  banks  are  fair, 

And  Greta  woods  are  gay; 
I  would  I  were  writh  Edmund  there, 

To  reign  his  queen  of  MswJ 

With  burnished  brand  and  musketoon. 

So  gallantly  you  come, 
I  read  vou  for  a  bold  dragoon, 

That  lists  the  tuck  of  drum. 
I  list  no  more  the  tuck  of  drum,  • 

No  more  the  trumpet  hear; 


240  jack  downing's 

But  when  the  beetle  sounds  his  hum, 

My  comrades  take  the  spear. 
And  O,  though  Brignal  banks  be  fair. 

And  Greta  woods  be  gay, 
Yet  mickle  must  the  maiden  dare, 

Would  reign  my  queen  of  May! 

Maiden!  a  nameless  life  I  lead, 

A  nameless  death  I  5]1  die; 
The  fiend,  whose  lantern  lights  the  mead 

Were  better  mate  than  1! 
And  when  I  'm  with  my  comrades  met, 

Beneath  the  greenwood  bough, 
What  once  we  were  we  all  forget, 

Nor  think  what  we  are  now. 
Yet  Brignal  banks  are  fresh  and  fair,    * 

And  Greta  woods  are  green; 
And  you  may  gather  garlands  there, 

Would  grace  a  summer  queen. 

WILL  YOU  COME  TO  THE  BOWER? 

Will  you  come  Jo  the  bower  I  h  ave  shaded 

for  jfou?^ 
Your  bed  ehall  be  roses  bespangled  with  dew. 

Will  you,  will  you,  will  you,  will  you, 

Come  to  the  bower? 

There  under  the  bower  on  soft  roses  you  lie, 
With  a  blush  on  your  cheek,  but  a  smile  in 
your  eye; 


SONG    BOOK.  241 

Will  you,  will  you,  &c. 
Smile  my  beloved? 

But  the  roses  we  press  shall  not  rival  your  lip, 
Nor  the  dew  be  so  sweet  as  the  kisses  we'  H 
sip. 

Will  you,  will  you,  &c. 

Kiss  me,  my  love? 

And  O !  for  the  joys  that  are  sweeter  than 

dew, 
From  languishing  roses  or  kisses  from  you. 

Will  you,  will  you,  &c. 

Won't  you,  my  love? 

CRAZY  JANE. 

VVhy,  fair  maid,  in  ev'ry  feature, 

Are  such  signs  of  fear  expressed? 
Can  a  wand'ring,  wretched  creature, 

With  such  terror  fill  thy  breast? 
Do  my  frenzied  looks  alarm  thee? 

Trust  me,  sweet,  thy  fears  are  vain: 
Not  for  kingdoms  would  I  harm  thee; 

Shun  not  then  poor  Crazy  Jane. 

jPost  thou  weep  to  see  my  anguish? 
*~;.Mark  me,  and  avoid  my  wo; 
When  men  flatter,  sigh  and  languish, 

Think  them  false — I  found  them  so 
For  I  loved — ah!  so  sincerely, 

None  could  ever  love  again; 

15 


242  jack  downing's 

But  the  youth  I  loved  so  dearly, 
Stole  the  wits  of  Crazy  Jane. 

Fondly  my  young  heart  received  him, 

Which  was  doomed  to  love  but  one: 
He  sighed— he  vowed— and  I  believed  him, 

He  was  false,  and  I  undone. 
From  that  hour  has  reason  never 

Held  her  empire  o'er  my  brain: 
Henry  fled— with  him  for  ever 

Fled  the  wits  of  Crazy  Jane, 

Now  forlorn  and  broken-hearted, 

And  with  frenzied  thought  beset ? 
On  that  spot  where  last  we  parted, 

On  that  spot  where  first  we  met, 
Still  I  sing  my  lovelorn  ditty; 

Still  I  slowly  pace  the  plain; 
While  each  passer-by,  m  pity, 

Cries_God  help  thee;  Crazy  Jane! 

THE  GATHERING  OF  THE  CLANS. 

Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming, 
Jock  and  Tarn  and  a's  coming; 
Duncan's  coming,  Donald's  coming, 
Colin's  coming,  Ronald's  coming, 
Dongald's  coming,  Lauchlan's  coming? 
Alister  and  a's  coming. 

Little  wat  ye  wha's  coming, 
M'Gilvrey  of  Grumglass  is  coming, 


/ 


I 


